Threat
by KBerry
Summary: UNIT, a ruthless, cold-hearted killing machine. When an unwelcome but familiar face finally spills all of Sarah-Jane's secrets, it has terrible consequences. Luke Smith is labelled a threat, and it was all too easy for UNIT to snatch him away. But they hadn't counted on the determination of his friends to snatch him back again, even if it kills them. Rated T for violence.
1. Murder at the hands of UNIT

**Hello :) I've always meant to write a SJA fic, and now I've finally gotten a move on and done it. I've always loved the show, and decided to add it to my collection of fics and give writing for it a try. This story has been done before, but mine's a bit different. It's about UNIT's discovery of Luke, but also more than that. There's a bit of romance between Luke and Maria, and the return of a familiar but not very welcome face XD This first chapter is more of a reminder of how ruthless UNIT can be. The next chapter is where it all really begins!**

**Obviously dedicated to Elisabeth Sladen, without whom none of these stories would exist, and our childhoods would have been a lot more empty. And my teenage years too, because I remain in love with SJA and anything Doctor Who ;) She was amazing. **

**I hope you like it!**

* * *

**1:46am, the South of England**

The enormous, black shadow of a night without stars stretched across the overgrown field with its tall grass swaying eerily in the wind. A small, run down shack was just visible in the darkness, long ago abandoned by its owner. But it wasn't empty. Two haggard people huddled in a corner of the single room, a mother and young child no older than six or seven. The woman's eyes were full of despair, and the ghosts of the people she had lost where somehow visible within them by the light of their single, pathetically flickering candle. She hugged her child-who was wrapped in an old potato sack-closer to her, muttering prayers from another world under her breath.

She had fled from her home planet when the rebellion had failed. Her race shared the planet with another. Another that had wanted absolute power, and strived to get it by the cruellest means. Her race had fought, fought so hard against them, but had failed. With her partner already brutally and publicly executed, she grabbed her daughter and ran. She fled across the stars to the planet Earth, quiet, unremarkable Earth, safe in the knowledge that no enemy would ever think to look for them there.

But she hadn't considered the threat from that planet's own monsters.

As she sat, whispering to her other-worldly God, she heard something outside that might have been a tree branch creaking in the wind. She hesitated for a moment, and heard only silence, so carried on with her prayer.

Then the door blasted open.

"UNIT, stay where you are!" Shouts suddenly filled her ears as a swarm of armed humans flooded into the tiny rooms, all guns pointing directly at her. "Any hostile actions will result in your immediate death!" The leading officer bellowed at her. Panicked, she tried to cover her now hysterically screaming child with her arms and pressed back against the wall.

"I no harm!" she screamed desperately, with a broken attempt at Earth-English. "I no hurt you, I no bad!" One of the cold-eyed humans brought out a flashing device and pointed it at her. She shrieked as there was a bang and sparks flew from the image-translator on her wrist, and even as she stared at it the human arm flickered like a hologram before revealing its true, glittering scaled form. Terror gripped her heart, and in one instinctive, fear filled movement she made the mistake of trying to stand.

Dozens of bullets were shot all at once. It was impossible to tell which one hit first, and snatched the life from her. Her slashed, blood soaked body collapsed to the floor beside her child. As the UNIT officers gathered up the young alien, not one even blinked at the child's agonised screams and frantic struggles. They simply injected her with drugs in one careless movement, and the leader of the mission brought out his communicator and said,

"Mission Successful. Threat terminated."


	2. Maria

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it :)**

**This chapter starts off from the point Maria leaves to go to America, and focuses on the feelings of her and Luke (as she returns later in the story). This chapter does make a jump from the day Maria leaves to the December of that year, and I've tried to handle that as best I can. It also includes some memories of the previous Christmas. Sorry time moves on so quickly, it's so I can get to the main story as soon as I can.**

**Hope you like it :)**

* * *

Maria had been rapidly texting her friends and her mother non-stop the entire journey to the airport, jabbing the buttons on her phone so fast that her thumbs appeared as a blur. Alan joked a few times that it was hardly worth her going with him if she wasn't going to speak to him, but it still didn't deter her. He was worried about that, because he knew exactly what she was doing-she was clinging on to the last link she had between her and the people she was leaving behind. But soon she would have to accept that she was breaking away from them, and when that blow came, it would shatter her. And he was right.

When they arrived at the airport, a horrible, strange feeling spread through Maria's body, and she seemed to go numb. Alan got out of the taxi, but she remained rooted to the seat, staring ahead fixatedly. She knew she had to get out, but her legs didn't seem to belong to her anymore and wouldn't respond. What if she didn't get on the plane? What if she stayed in the taxi? She could go back…

"Maria?" her dad asked anxiously, at the exact same moment her phone vibrated in her hands with what must have been the billionth message from Chrissie. She snapped out of it, and forced a smile in his direction.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just…thinking." She opened the door, stepped out, and paused before shutting it behind her, the slam seeming very final. A lump rose in her throat as she watched the small black car drive away, and she had the strange realisation that that car would never have to leave England. That car would never have to go to America, and might even visit Bannerman Road again soon.

Alan put his arm around his daughter as she stared almost enviously after the taxi, and turned her towards the airport entrance.

For a while, she managed to hold herself together. She found herself texting Luke more than anyone else while she waited for their plane-all the texts that Chrissie sent her consisted mainly of kisses, and Clyde's were filled with lame jokes that she knew were cover-ups for how he really felt. Sarah-Jane wasn't really one for texting, so Luke was the only person who gave her what she really needed; a distraction. She asked him to tell her things, random things (like what he was having for dinner) and he did, either not mentioning how strange she was acting or not noticing, which was quite likely. Then he said something that brought her back to reality.

**I miss you.**

Suddenly, the voices and sounds of the airport seemed so much louder, and she was forced to remember that she, Maria, was here in an airport, and he was at home, maybe even in the attic. Her heart began to ache, and there were tears in her eyes as she texted back.

**I miss you too. **

The tears burnt hot and threatened to spill over, when it was loudly announced that their plane was boarding. She blinked back the tears, and stood shakily.

This was it.

She managed to contain herself until she was on the plane, but all of her feeble defences came crashing down when the plane started to rise into the air. Her stomach lurched sickeningly, and she didn't think it was a fear of heights. She watched the ground as she left it behind, as she left her home behind, that wonderful world behind.

She felt a warm tear slide down her face, and more followed thick and fast until she was sobbing uncontrollably. Alan noticed and rubbed her arm comfortingly, but it was no good. Sarah-Jane had been broken-hearted when the Doctor had dropped her back on Earth. Maria had chosen to leave that life.

And she had made a terrible mistake.

* * *

Luke held his mobile in his hands tightly, just staring at it. Sarah-Jane came into the living room and saw him sitting on the couch, looking like the world was ending. Sarah-Jane could say that with complete honesty, as she had actually seen his expression when he believed the world was going to end, and it was uncanny.

"Texting Maria?" she asked as lightly as she could, but when Luke replied his voice was hollow.

"No, she had to turn her phone off when she got on the plane."

"Oh." She didn't need to ask why he hadn't put his phone down. It made him feel closer to her. The silence weighed down on them until Sarah-Jane couldn't bear it any longer, and the expression on her son's face was nearly reducing her to tears.

"How about some TV?" She hunted around for the remote, which she found lurking behind a cushion, and switched on the TV. She flicked through the channels, and settled on one showing the Simpsons. It obviously wasn't distracting enough, as Luke began to stare out of the window in the direction of Maria's house. What used to be Maria's house.

"I wonder who'll move in there," she said, trying to make conversation. Luke went rigid, and she knew instantly that she had said the wrong thing.

"I hadn't thought of that," he said quietly, biting his lip as he considered the idea.

"Well, it doesn't matter," she said quickly. "They won't be Maria, they'll just be our neighbours. It's just a house." Luke nodded and the silence returned. Sarah-Jane felt desperately sorry for him-he had never lost anyone before, and Maria was more than just a friend to him. When they shared what they had, they were bonded for life in a way nobody else could ever be.

He kept up the silence for the rest of the evening, and when he came into the attic to say goodnight she just had to say something.

"It will get better, you know," she said. He shook his head miserably.

"I don't want it to. If I feel better I'll feel like I'm betraying her somehow, and that means she'll feel better, and won't miss me anymore. Then she might stop caring…but that's selfish," he said, looking angry at himself. Sarah-Jane got up from her desk and pulled him into a hug.

"You'll always have moments where you miss her. But not all the time. And besides, you'll see her again," she said, still holding him tightly.

"Mum?" he said suddenly. "Remember what you said about looking at the night sky if you missed someone?"

"Yes."

"Well, that won't work. Because of the time difference in America." He pulled away from her and, on that miserable note, bid her goodnight and left the attic. Sarah-Jane stared after him sadly, not really knowing what she could do to help.

* * *

**December**

It was nearly Christmas, and a light dusting of pure white snow lay on Bannerman Road.

"What's the point of such a puny amount of snow?" Clyde grumbled as he, Luke and Rani walked to school. A few of the dainty little flakes drifted down to land on the sleeve of Clyde's coat, and he brushed them off furiously. "You can't make snowballs with it, and you can't even get a day off school."

"Well, _I_ think it's beautiful," Rani said, giving Clyde a playful shove. "What about you, Luke?"

"I think it's just frozen rain."

"Ah, the spirit of Christmas," Clyde said sarcastically. "Can't you just feel it on the air?" Rani rolled her eyes, but Luke didn't say anything. He hadn't had much experience with Christmas, and saw straight through all the fancy decorations, trees, and twinkly lights for what it really was-a marketing scheme. He knew it was a Christian holiday, yet everybody seemed to celebrate it regardless of their religion, and-however much they denied it-that was mostly because of the presents. Even so, he felt upset about this year's being different. Because Maria wasn't here.

Last year the snow had fallen heavily, and a thick blanket had (to Clyde's immense joy) forced them to have a day off school. Luke had been fascinated with the snow, as he had only ever heard about it before, never actually experienced it. But it was freezing and wet, and not at all as fun as everyone said it was. The day school was cancelled they all went to the local park, and Clyde had told him in all seriousness 'never, EVER eat yellow snow'. Why anyone would eat snow in the first place was beyond Luke, as it would lower your body temperature and make you even colder. He was hit in the back of the head more than once with Clyde's snowballs, until finally Maria dumped a handful of the icy stuff down Clyde's back. Luke would never forget how he had screamed like a five year old girl-it was one of the best moments of his life. Maria then dragged him off to help her build what she called a 'snowman', but really turned out to be a blob with a carrot and a bobble hat stuck on it. Luke hadn't completely understood any of the random and strange traditions (like putting up a tree indoors), but found himself having fun all the same.

He saw her again on Christmas day when she and Alan came across the road. He had answered the door to see her bundled up in a thick coat, hat, wool scarf and furry mittens, looking like a walking pom-pom with just her eyes and little red nose poking out. They came in to warm up (it had hardly been a long trek from one side of the road to another, but it really was freezing), then sat together in the living room, laughing and joking, like a family. After a while, Maria had pulled him out into the hall.

"What is it?" he asked, puzzled. In answer she pulled something out of her coat pocket, and passed him the small round object wrapped in paper patterned with little blue Christmas trees. He stared at the present, and she watched him expectantly.

"You don't need my permission or anything, you can open it," she laughed. He frowned and turned it over in his hands, then twirled the ribbon around.

"But I don't want to ruin it."

"It's the thing inside that matters, not the wrapping paper," she said. He still looked hesitant. "Go on, just rip it." He undid the ribbon, then carefully slit open the paper. He reached the layer of bubble wrap and unwound it so slowly that Maria thought it might be next Christmas by the time he actually reached the gift. Finally, he was left with only the glass globe in his hands. He blinked at it.

"Um…what is it?" he asked, feeling quite stupid. Maria smiled.

"It's a snow globe," she explained. "Look." She took the globe from him and shook it gently, causing the little white flakes of flake snow inside to swirl around before drifting back down onto the miniscule scene of children ice skating on a frozen lake.

"That's what a snow globe is?" he asked, as though looking for confirmation. She nodded. He took it back and inspected it curiously, shaking it again to watch exactly what the 'snow' did.

"It doesn't really do much, except look pretty," she admitted. "But I didn't really know what to get you. It's your first Christmas, and I suppose you can keep a little part of it in this snow globe forever." There was a pause between them, and the tiny flakes of snow settled for a third time.

"I haven't opened mum's present yet," Luke told Maria, shaking the snow up again. "This is my first Christmas present." He looked up and smiled at her. "I like it."

"I'm glad," she said, looking relieved. His eyes suddenly lit up, and he handed her the snow globe.

"Wait a minute, I need to get your present." Before she could say anything, he flew up the stairs and could be heard thudding around on the landing. After exactly one minute he returned, holding her present.

"I asked mum for some help," he said, looking a bit guilty. "I'm not very good at getting presents and all this Christmas stuff."

"I'm sure I'll love it," Maria assured him. He smiled nervously, and handed her the present, taking back his new snow globe carefully. The present was wrapped in shiny pink paper, with a big maching ribbon. Luke watched her, still looking very anxious. He knew how important the day was to Maria, and had to get it right.

"I just thought girls like pink, so it's really pink, because…well…" He himself went pink in the face, then scarlet, until he was almost mauve. "Girls do like pink, don't they?"

"Yeah, they do," Maria said, struggling not to laugh at how nervous he was. She opened her present quickly to spare her friend the agonising suspense that she had had to endure.

"Do you like it?" Luke asked the moment she'd opened it.

"I do," she said quietly, feeling oddly emotional. "I really do." Her present was a photograph in a (you guessed it) bright pink frame. The photo was of her, Luke and Clyde that day when they had played around in the snow, gathered around the snowman/blob. Clyde was glaring at the snowman's hat-well, it was really his hat, but Maria had snatched it from his head and told him that it was just a necessary part of a snowman, and not to be such a Grinch. Luke and Maria were on the snowman's other side, laughing together, their cheeks faintly red from the cold. The snowflakes patterned their clothes, caught by the camera in the split second before they melted and were lost forever, much in the same way the photo captured the moment. They had asked a passing stranger to take the picture, and had made a good choice-it was perfect, even if Clyde didn't look too pleased.

"I love it," Maria said, and then threw her arms around Luke. He was taken by surprise for a minute, then recovered and hugged her back, a smile tugging at his lips. Then Maria frowned and let go.

"Wait…" She sniffed the air. "Can you smell burning?" Luke looked suddenly horrified, and right on cue the fire alarm began to wail, alerting the house to the fact that Christmas dinner was being incinerated.

"MUM!" Luke yelled, rushing through to the kitchen and wrenching open the oven, choking on the foul smell. Maria, coughing, threw open the window and let the cold air begin to purify the room.

"It's OK, I'm here!" Sarah-Jane shouted over the screaming alarm, running in and clutching a fire extinguisher.

"Why have you got a fire extinguisher?" Maria asked in astonishment.

"This is why!" Sarah-Jane shouted, and Alan hurried in just in time to see Christmas dinner doused in white foam. The alarm stopped, and the four of them stood in the destroyed kitchen.

"Our house?" Alan suggested.

That had hardly been a model Christmas, but Luke would give anything to have another one like it. He liked Rani. He had been unsure of her at first (after all, she had called him weird and accused him of being close minded), but had grown to like her after everything they went through together. Even so, she could never be Maria, and whenever he watched the way she and Clyde played around and laughed together, he felt a small twinge of jealousy…and massive pang of loss.

"Luke?" Rani waved a hand in front of his face, causing him to take an instinctive step backwards. She frowned at him. "You're miles away."

"Yeah. Right. Sorry, I was just…thinking," he mumbled.

"When you decide to come back down to Earth, d'you want to answer my question?" Rani asked. He blinked at her, and she sighed. "I asked if you wanted to come over after school?"

"I can't, I promised Maria I'd call her," Luke said, making an effort to sound regretful. But obviously his happiness at that showed on his face, because Clyde grinned and took a stance like an actor on stage, one hand over his heart.

"Two lovers, torn apart," he said seriously. "United once more through the magic of Webcam-"

"She isn't my lover," Luke interrupted quickly, his face crimson. Clyde gave him a deeply patronising look.

"Whatever you say."

"Oh, leave off Clyde," Rani said in sympathy with Luke, who could not only have fried an egg on his face, but burnt a few too. "And you better watch out if you're coming over, mum's put up so much mistletoe in the house…"

Then it was Clyde's turn to go red.

* * *

"I've really missed you," Luke said, the second he saw Maria's face on the screen of his laptop. He was sitting at his desk in his room-sometimes he just wanted to talk with her privately.

"We only spoke last week," she laughed.

"I know, but I still missed you," he said, shifting awkwardly on his seat. He suddenly worried that he was being too clingy, and wondered how he could make himself seem less so. "But, um, Rani, Clyde and me went into town, and it…it snowed, sort of, so that distracted me, so I didn't miss you all of the time or anything." Maria looked a bit confused-at least, her smile slipped slightly-when she replied.

"Right."

"Not that I forgot about you," Luke said hastily, feeling his face burn hot again. "I didn't."

"I know," Maria said, then looked concerned. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah," Luke lied. "I'm fine. So how are things?" he said more brightly, trying to change the subject.

"Good," she said, with a fleeting smile. "It feels weird, spending Christmas over here. Mum keeps on ringing, cried a few times. But she'll be all right, she's got Ivan. And you've got Sarah-Jane and Clyde…and Rani," she added, watching for his reaction, looking almost jealous.

"But not you," Luke said quietly. Maria smiled a forced smile, but her eyes were sad.

"We're speaking now, aren't we?" she said, trying to be positive. Luke shook his head morosely.

"It's not the same." There was a pause while both of them tried to pull themselves together and push down their misery for the sake of the other.

"I'll try and be there for Christmas next year," Maria promised, and gave him a small smile. "I don't think mum would allow anything else anyway."

"No." There was another long pause.

"I have to go now," Maria said regretfully and, as it did every time she said that, Luke's heart tightened painfully. "I have loads of homework I really need to do. I'll speak to you again really soon."

"OK, then…bye," Luke said sadly.

"Bye," Maria said thickly, struggling to hold back tears. She hated seeing him like that, and just wanted to be there. At _home_. She moved to switch off the call before the tears came, but stopped at Luke's panicked cry.

"Wait!"

"What?" she sniffed, and risked wiping her eyes quickly. He stared at her, but couldn't seem to find the words to say what he so desperately wanted to. "I…Maria…" He sighed. "I'll send your Christmas present in the post."

"Right…so will I," she said, knowing that wasn't what he had wanted to say at all. "See you." She hesitated for a moment, then switched off the call. Luke watched as the picture blinked off, and closed his laptop. For a long while he just sat there, listening to the silence. If Clyde was right, and this was love, he wasn't sure he liked it.


	3. The Spark That Lit The Fire

**I had planned to up****date sooner, but things got in the way ...I decided to revisit series 1, 2, 3 and 4 of Doctor Who, and just couldn't stop watching. It's so addictive! I finally ran out of stuff to watch, and then my brain just went-**

**Torchwood! Haven't seen that in a while. So I watched some Torchwood, then finally forced myself to finish this chapter and post it. It's extra long to make up for not updating soon enough XD**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I'll never be able to express how much I love you all.**

**Oh, and there's a certain someone in this chapter who it might look like I feel sorry for. I don't. I hate the someone in this chapter with a passion, and took great joy in writing it!**

* * *

To say that Luke was gloomy the next day was an understatement. Both Rani and Clyde noticed, but tried to help in very different ways. Rani tried to gently coax him into telling her what was wrong, but never managed much more of a response than a non-committal shrug.

Clyde bombarded him ruthlessly with jokes. Luke wasn't sure if this was an attempt to cheer him up, or torture him until he snapped. Either way, it wasn't working.

"OK, So," Clyde said chirpily as they walked to school, "A student and a teacher are in class, and the student puts up his hand and says 'Sir, my pen's run out', and the teacher says 'you better run after it then'." He watched eagerly for Luke's response, which was a very obviously fake smile.

"Good one."

"Oh, come on!" Clyde exclaimed in disbelief, stopping and turning to face his friend. "That one had Rani in stitches!" Rani shook her head frantically from over his shoulder, and Luke sighed.

"I'm just not in the mood for jokes. Sorry."

"What is _wrong_ with you today?" Clyde asked, looking irritated. "And why won't you just tell us?"

Luke said nothing, and started walking again. But Clyde wasn't having it.

"Out with it!"

"Clyde!" Rani snapped at him. "If he doesn't want to say, fair enough. It's his business, not ours."

"It's obviously Maria, he spoke to her last night," Clyde said, watching Luke carefully, who immediately looked at the ground. Clyde grabbed him by the arm and stopped him again. "See? I knew it. What did she say?"

Luke was just opening his mouth to say that she didn't say anything wrong, when there was a scuffle behind them as a girl in their year ran past a younger student and snatched his bag. The young boy gave out a shout and unfortunately for Luke, the girl slammed straight into him as she both tried to run away at top speed and look back and laugh. Luke overbalanced on impact and nearly shoved over poor Rani as he tried to regain his balance.

"Watch it!" Clyde snapped, and the girl pulled a face at him as though he were something disgusting.

"It's your own stupid fault for stopping in the middle of the pavement, what do you-" The girl stopped suddenly as she actually noticed who she'd just slammed into. She took on an expression like that of rabbit staring into the headlights, her eyes wide and fearful. Luke stared back at her, wearing a similar expression, with both Clyde and Rani watching the exchange in complete bemusement.

She took a hesitant, uncertain step backwards, then suddenly took off. The three of them watched as she legged it down the road-she could have been running for life at the speed she was going-and threw the stolen blue rucksack carelessly to one side. Its small first year owner scurried over to pick it up, muttering swear words under his breath that could shock even Clyde. There was a long, puzzled pause.

"Um…are you gonna tell us what that was about?" Rani eventually asked Luke, who was still staring after the girl. "Do you know her?"

"Kind of," Luke replied vaguely, looking anxious.

"Well, she didn't look too pleased to see you, mate," Clyde said, giving his friend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Luke shook his head.

"She wouldn't, she…her name's Kelsey Hooper. She was with me and Maria that day the Bane tried to take over the world."

"Say it louder, will you?" Clyde hissed, pulling him to one side as a group of girls gave them a strange look as they walked past. "So she knows about aliens?"

"What if she tells someone?" Rani asked, looking alarmed. Clyde snorted.

"Are you kidding? They'd think she was mental, and anyway she must've known for ages," he said.

"She has," Luke confirmed. "But she couldn't handle it, Maria said she was in denial afterwards."

"Well, some people just don't have what it takes," Clyde said smugly, puffing out his chest proudly. Rani raised her eyebrows at him, and he deflated slightly. "Come on. We're pretty awesome."

"Maybe, but Luke, does she know about…you?" she finished on a whisper, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the fellow teens walking to school weren't within hearing distance.

"Yes. But I really don't think she'll say anything," Luke said confidently. Rani still looked worried.

"I hope not."

* * *

It was late afternoon at Park Vale High School, and so by that time every student's mind had wandered as far from school work as it's possible to get. The air itself seemed to have lost the buzz of the day and was heavy and still, bearing down on the students.

The monotonous drone of the science teacher and steady ticking of the clock was enough to send Clyde to sleep. He sat slumped at his science desk, elbows resting on an open textbook. His eyelids drooped, and every so often-like most of his classmates-he yawned loudly.

"Clyde," Luke, who was sitting beside him, whispered softly. Clyde yawned again, and Luke nudged him and hissed more angrily, "_Clyde_!"

"What?"

"Can you move your elbow? I can only see half of page forty-nine." Clyde gave a very theatrical sigh and sat back, pushing the entire text book across the desk to his friend.

"If I ever find out who scheduled double science for Friday afternoon, I swear…" Clyde trailed off moodily, then looked hopefully at the clock on the wall for what must have been about the twentieth time that lesson.

"That's the twenty-second time you've looked at the clock," Luke pointed out, with his usual casual accuracy. "And I like science."

"I've noticed," Clyde grumbled then slowly and slyly opened his bag under the desk. Luke watched as Clyde pulled out a packet of mint chewing-gum.

"But… Clyde, gum isn't allowed. It's against the school rules," Luke reminded Clyde anxiously, wondering innocently if his friend had forgotten. Clyde glanced anxiously at their teacher, Mr Saunders-luckily he was busy standing on a chair, trying and failing to get the projector to work, and hadn't heard Luke.

"Duh, I know," Clyde said, taking out a piece of gum and unwrapping it as quietly as he could. "But rules were made to be broken."

"That makes no sense-"

"Look, it's just gum. It's a stupid rule," Clyde interrupted, looking irritated. "And anyway, chewing something is supposed to help your concentration." Then, ignoring Luke's disapproving expression, he popped the gum into his mouth.

"Right," a scarlet-faced Mr Saunders said, getting down from the chair that had somehow managed to hold his considerably large weight while he fiddled with the projector. "It seems well and truly broken-"

Before he had even finished his sentence, Luke's hand shot into the air. Clyde rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Luke?"

"Sir, I think I might be able to fix it," Luke said earnestly. Mr Saunders nodded glumly and stood aside; he no longer questioned Luke Smith's ability after his short amount of time teaching him. Sometimes he rather bitterly wondered who would be better at teaching the class.

"Well?" he asked, watching the student inspect the projector and then turn the remote over curiously in his hands.

"It's not actually broken…what button were you pressing?"

Mr Saunders showed him.

"That's the problem, it's that one there. The red one."

"Oh, I thought it was the green one, like green for go."

"Well, it's not, it's the red one."

"I know, you said," Mr Saunders snapped, losing his patience and snatching the remote from Luke, who looked astonished at his teacher's sudden hostility towards him. "You can sit down now."

Looking perplexed, Luke returned to his seat, then proceeded to frown as he tried to figure out the cause of Mr Saunders' mood.

"OK then," Mr Saunders said briskly, trying to stir the class into action. A few students half looked up from the desks, a dead look in their eyes. "I'll just put on the Powerpoint…" He raised the remote, pointed it at the projector and clicked the button.

Nothing.

Luke raised his hand hesitantly, looking quite nervous at his teacher's expression. Mr Saunders ignored him completely, and took a deep breath.

"Maybe if I wait for a bit…"

After two minutes, nothing happened.

"…Sir," Luke began tentatively, but Mr Saunders interrupted furiously.

"No, I can work it out! I'm the teacher and don't need your help!" he snapped, sounding like a stroppy toddler who had been offered unwanted help building a Lego tower. He repeatedly slammed his finger against the 'on' button, getting more and more infuriated as it failed to work.

"WORK, YOU STUPID BLOODY THING, WORK!" he bellowed then, in one rage driven movement, flung the remote across the room. The students watched as it clattered to the ground, their mouths open, shocked by the sudden change of atmosphere. Mr Saunders stood there, his pupils small in his wide eyes, breathing heavily. His nostrils flared alarmingly, and every single student was reminded of an angry bull about to charge.

So of course Luke had to go and wave the red flag.

"You only needed to hold the button down."

Months of built up resentment, low self-esteem and general student-loathing burst out of Mr Saunders, all directed at poor Luke, who hadn't really done anything wrong.

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR ATTITUDE, SMITH!" Mr Saunders exploded, steam practically coming out of ears. "DETENTION!"

"For _what_?" Clyde shouted indignantly, while Luke could only sit there, looking shell-shocked.

"For…for being deliberately obnoxious and a show-off!" Mr Saunders said pathetically.

"That's not fair, it's not his fault you're an idiot!" Clyde said angrily, his blood beginning to boil as he prepared for a fight.

"Just leave it, Clyde," Luke muttered miserably.

"No, it's not on! You've done nothing wrong-"

"YOU, Langer, have earned yourself detention as well!" Mr Saunders boomed. "I will not stand here and be called an idiot!"

"You better get used to it because it's going to happen a lot!"

"Get out! BOTH OF YOU!" Mr Saunders yelled, pointing at the door. The other students watched, shamefully excited, as Clyde did something that was both very stupid and very deserving. He pushed back his chair so hard that it squealed across the floor, stormed over to Mr Saunders, and forcefully spat out the gum he had been chewing into his face. Mr Saunders was stupefied, and could only stammer at Clyde.

"Come on, Luke," Clyde said in disgust, turning and heading for the door. Luke stood up awkwardly, and glanced at his teacher, debating whether or not he should apologise. But he was fairly sure that he hadn't said or done anything wrong, and Mr Saunders had. So in the end he just gave him a short wave, and hurried out after Clyde.

In the corridor outside, Clyde was furiously reciting a string of curses, half of which Luke had never even heard before.

"Clyde…it's only detention," Luke pointed out, then frowned as he realised he had never experienced it before. "What actually happens in detention?"

"It doesn't matter if it's only detention!" Clyde fumed, glaring at the door to the science room as though his glare could burn straight through it and hit Mr Saunders like a laser beam. "You didn't deserve that, and he's a…"

The words came again, louder and more angrily this time. When their English teacher, Miss Brighton, came down the corridor with an armful of files, she very nearly dropped them.

"Clyde!" she snapped. "Watch your language! And what are you two doing out here?"

"That great stupid-" Clyde began hotly, but Luke interrupted.

"Mr Saunders sent us out," he said quickly. Miss Brighton blinked at him.

"_You_?" she said in astonishment, thinking of how well he behaved in her class. Clyde being sent out was understandable (she would never forget the incident in class when Clyde had used the Macbeth worksheets to create a fleet of paper aeroplanes) but Luke…"Why?"

"Because…I don't actually know," Luke admitted. Miss Brighton frowned and looked to Clyde.

"And you?"

"I…he deserved it!" Clyde said defensively. "It doesn't matter what I did, he-"

"Clyde."

"…Ispatguminhisface," Clyde mumbled illegibly, turning his head to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't catch that."

"I spat gum in his face," Clyde repeated, more bravely this time. "But he had it coming!" Miss Brighton sighed, years of weariness at students visible on her face.

"That was a very silly thing to do, Clyde," she said, then added as he opened his mouth furiously, "but you wait here and I'll have a word with him. See exactly what's going on."

"I can tell you exactly what's-" Clyde stopped as Luke gave him a stern look that clearly said '_leave it!'_. They both watched her as she gave them one last look of disapproval before entering the classroom. As the door shut behind her, Clyde groaned.

"What is it with the teachers here? They're either mental or Slitheen!" he said. He shook his head, then started walking off down the corridor.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, running after him and grabbing his arm to halt him.

"Going home early, I'm not waiting here to grilled again by that psycho Saunders!" Clyde said.

"Miss told us to wait here," Luke reminded him. Clyde's expression clearly showed what he thought of that idea.

"If she told you to jump off a cliff, would you do that too?" he asked sceptically. He tried to begin walking again, but Luke kept hold of his arm.

"We'll get in more trouble if we go," he said, looking serious. "Do you want to get expelled from this school as well?" This, as Luke had planned, had more of an impact and made Clyde pause, but before he could come to a decision Miss Brighton returned, her feathers thoroughly ruffled.

"Not enough 'authority' for him, 'just an English teacher'," she muttered bitterly to herself, her face livid. "The _nerve_…"

"Miss?" Clyde said pointedly, reminding her of their presence. "What did he say?"

"Oh, he had a lot to say," she said, scowling. "Far too much, if you ask me!"

"Yeah, but what about us?" Clyde pressed impatiently.

"I'm sorry," she said, looking genuinely regretful. "He won't be reasoned with. You're both to sit in my classroom with me until the end of the day, when you'll do your detention in the detention room. I'm sure you know where that is, Clyde. Now, if you could head to my room now, I'll get the office to call your parents." She went off in the direction of the office, and once the sound of her high heels against the polished floor faded and disappeared, Clyde let out yet another swear word.

"Great! My mum's going to kill me!" he said crossly. "Just perfect!"

"I hope mum's not going to be angry," Luke said, looking troubled at the idea of disappointing Sarah-Jane. "If we explain…"

"It won't matter, parents never listen!" Clyde grouched, kicking the wall in his anger then yelping in pain. "_Ow_!"

"We might as well just deal with it and go to Miss Brighton's room and do the detention," Luke said, shrugging. "There's no point moaning about it."

"It makes me feel better, OK?"

* * *

A wave of students passed through the double doors of the school at the end of the day, chattering and laughing loudly. The youngest of the school managed to find enough remnants of the light snowfall of yesterday to make snowballs to chuck at their friends, and before long a brutal snowball fight erupted outside. One of the snowballs smacked against the window of Miss Brightman's room, and Clyde got up to look down at the scene sullenly.

"Come on, or we'll be late for the detention," Luke said, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder.

"It's not fair though," Clyde whined as they made their way to the detention room. "And I was supposed to be going to town with Rani tonight."

"Well, maybe if you explain that you had a date planned they'll let you off," Luke said, smirking in a know-all way that made Clyde glare at him.

"_Not_ a date, Rani's just a friend."

"Whatever you say, Clyde…"

"Stop looking at me like that!"

They reached the room, and entered reluctantly. A bored looking teacher sat at the desk at the front of the room, and nodded for them to sit down. About four other students were spread out across the classroom, and Clyde groaned suddenly.

"I don't believe it."

"What?"

"It's that mental girl, Kelly Hopper or whatever she was called!"

Luke looked, and saw that Clyde was right. Kelsey was sat alone at a desk, her tacky, brightly laced trainers up on the chair beside her. She was texting very obviously, and flicked her hair from her eyes every few moments. Everything from her actions to the way she sat radiated arrogance.

"Don't just stand there dawdling, sit down," the teacher told them impatiently. Kelsey looked over, and he a flicker of fear showed briefly on her face before she whipped her head around to stare in the opposite direction. Clyde looked at her in disgust.

"_Barmy."_

They sat down at a desk beside the window, and prepared themselves for a very long and boring hour. The grounds outside were empty and silent now, and for Luke it seemed strange to be in school when it was deserted (the only other time that had happened they were being hunted by aliens, and he had been a bit distracted). However, Clyde was used to it, and proceeded to make himself comfortable and-like Kelsey-began texting.

But after about eight minutes, Clyde began to get restless. He shifted about constantly in his seat. He drummed his fingers on the desk. He sighed every few seconds. All of which drove Luke crazy.

"Stop fidgeting!" he whispered, when he could bear it no longer.

"I'm sorry, is it distracting you from staring pointlessly at the board?" Clyde hissed back sarcastically.

"That's what we're supposed to be doing."

"Who cares? And what time is it?"

"Sixteen minutes to four," Luke replied exactly, glancing up at the clock. Its hands seemed to move agonisingly slowly, and Clyde was sure that each tick was spaced out by at least a minute.

"So that's forty-six minutes left," Clyde groaned, looking longingly out of the window. "We totally don't deserve this."

The tiniest snort could be heard to the right of them, and was quickly stifled as both Luke and Clyde turned to look in the direction of Kelsey. She was determinedly not looking at them, and was once again texting with the impossible speed of someone who had such an empty life that they did that far too much for their own good. Clyde narrowed his eyes at her.

"You got a problem?" he challenged. The most frightened part of Kelsey screamed not to answer, but as it had been when she snorted, the temptation to open her mouth was just too strong.

"Have _you_ got a problem?" It was hardly a witty response, but was the best she could come up with.

"That depends on whether you have a problem!" Clyde snapped. They both gave each other their best death glares, and Luke decided that the best thing to do was to go back to staring at the board and pretend none of it was happening.

"Maybe I do," Kelsey said, putting a hand on her hip. She looked him up and down. "You're that Clyde Langer, you're always in trouble." Her eyes flickered to Luke, who sensed her looking at him but was determined not to look at her. "'Don't surprise me that he is either."

"Is that why you took off this morning?" Clyde asked. "Scared of us or something?" Kelsey made a sound of contempt, and Clyde felt a surge of hatred. He checked to make sure the teacher wasn't listening, leaned in closer, and hissed, "Scared of scary aliens?"

"You're nuts," Kelsey muttered, and turned back around again. But she couldn't hide the beads of sweat that appeared glistening on her forehead.

"You keep telling yourself that-"

"Clyde!" Luke interrupted, looking nervous. "Leave it!"

"You can pretend none of it happened if you want," Clyde carried on telling Kelsey, filled with anger, "but they're still out there."

"You're all loopy," Kelsey said, forcing a laugh that sounded more like a strangled scream. Once again, she glanced at Luke.

"Oh," Clyde said in realisation, smirking. "Remember Luke, do you?"

"Don't Clyde," Luke pleaded. But Clyde wasn't thinking straight in his anger, and at that moment wasn't thinking of his friend. Kelsey's attitude had gotten under his skin, and after the events of the day, had pushed him over the edge. He was determined to break her and destroy whatever weak fantasies she had constructed to keep out the world Clyde loved so much. How could she just reject it like that, and have the nerve to call _them_ loopy?

"You can't pretend he doesn't exist, can you? He must be so inconvenient, ruining whatever pathetic little story of denial you've made up. Aliens are everywhere, not just Bane; I've seen and fought Slitheen, a Gorgon, Sontarans, they're _everywhere_! Think they're not going to attack just because you aren't looking?"

That was enough for Kelsey. She jumped up from her chair as though she'd been electrocuted, and flew from the room, slamming the door shut behind her with a loud bang, as though trying to shut out the terrifying world that Clyde was determined to force upon her.

"Kelsey Hooper, you come back here now!" the teacher watching them shouted. "KELSEY!"

"Clyde!" Luke leapt up and swung his bag over his shoulder, and Clyde frowned at him.

"Where are _you_ going?" he asked.

"To talk to her, you've really upset her!"

"Serves her right!"

Luke didn't bother to waste time with a reply, and ran off to catch up with her. The teacher watched him dash past her desk in shock.

"Luke! Sit back down!" she snapped, and Luke glanced back fleetingly, looking truly regretful.

"Sorry, miss!"

"Luke, you-CLYDE!" she yelled as Clyde snatched up his bag and tore after Luke. "COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!"

But neither of them were listening, and in no time were out and running down full-pelt down the corridor.

"This makes no sense!" Clyde panted, as he pushed his legs to work faster. The long corridor ahead of them was completely empty. "We should be able to see her if she's heading for the exit, she can't have vanished!"

Luke started to reply, then something grabbed his attention and he skidded to halt. Clyde ran straight past him and was some way ahead before he realised Luke was no longer by his side. He slowed to a stop and looked back.

"What? Why've you stopped?" he asked. For some reason, Luke looked quite embarrassed.

"I think I might have an idea where she is," he said. Clyde waited for him to explain, then sighed as Luke failed to elaborate.

"Care to share?" he asked, walking back to meet him. In answer, Luke looked to the door he was standing beside.

"The _Girls Toilets_?" Clyde said in disbelief, staring at the printed sign on the door. "Why would she be in there?"

"It makes sense," Luke said, remembering how Maria had been so relieved the see the Ladies Toilets in the Bubbleshock factory. "I think girls like to hide in them."

"Well, if she is in there, I'm not going in," Clyde said firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because…because it's the Girls Toilets!"

"And? It's the end of the day, the only way anyone would be in there is if I'm right and she is."

"Look, it's weird, I'm not going in," Clyde said stubbornly, taking a step away from the door as though afraid of it. "You go, if you're so sure she's in there."

"Fine. I'm not frightened of the Girls Toilets," Luke said.

"I'm not _frightened_, I just don't want to go in!" Clyde snapped. "It feels wrong!" Luke rolled his eyes, and simply pushed open the door and went inside.

The first thing that struck him about the bathroom was that it was shockingly pink, from the tiles on the walls, to the sinks and the cubicle doors. The second thing was that one of those cubicles was engaged.

Clyde had taught Luke a lot about how to behave properly in certain situations. For example, you never introduced yourself to someone with 'how do you do' unless that someone happened to be the Queen of England. But no one had ever told Luke exactly how a boy was to start a conversation involving aliens with a girl who was likely to be hysterical in an otherwise deserted Girls Toilets.

"Um…Kelsey?" he asked nervously, half-wishing that he had just stayed outside like Clyde. There was slight gasp from the locked cubicle, and then the sound of someone softy weeping. Luke, despite her rudeness and hostility, felt sorry for her. "Kelsey, I know you're in there."

There was click and a bang as the door suddenly flew open, rebounding off the wall. Kelsey stormed out, her eyes wild with panic and red raw from crying.

"Just leave me alone!" she screamed at him. "Leave me alone!"

"Kelsey-" He took a step forwards, and she backed away from him into the wall and pressed flat against it, as though she could push through it and out the other side.

"Keep away!" she gasped, her voice breaking with a sob. She was gasping frantically for air, tears sliding down her face, having some kind of panic attack.

"Calm down," Luke said levelly, putting his hands up in an attempt to show her he meant no harm. "No one's going to hurt you-"

"You think I trust _you_?" she snapped, still shaking and crying, but also frightened and angry. "You're some kind of alien freak!" Her words cut deep into Luke, but also herself as she realised what she'd said. What she really knew, what happened that day...

Without warning she pushed back from the wall and rushed for the door, shoving Luke roughly out of the way. He stumbled sideways against the sinks, and had no time to grab her before she ran out the door.

"Wait!" he straightened up and hurried outside, to find Clyde sitting on the floor.

"She pushed me over!" he told Luke, with a stunned expression that quickly melted into one of fury. "_She pushed me over_!"

Luke glanced down the corridor just in time to see Kelsey speed round the corner, and knew that they would never catch up with her before she reached the exit. So he turned away, and instead offered Clyde a hand to get up.

"Thanks." Clyde hauled himself upright and brushed himself down, looking stroppy. "I can't believe she got away!"

"She would never have run off if you hadn't said all of those things to her," Luke pointed out irritably. He paused. "I hope she'll be OK."

"I don't care," Clyde sniffed, still sore about being suddenly pushed over in what he thought was an unjustified action. "Aw man, I'm gonna have bruises…"

"She was really scared," Luke carried on, ignoring Clyde. "I think she was having some kind of breakdown. She was crying, and screamed at me."

"Girls do that," Clyde said, shrugging. Luke shook his head-this wasn't the time for jokes, and something she had said was still causing a horrible squirming sensation in his stomach.

"She called me a freak."

"Like she can talk! Seriously, she's not worth thinking about," Clyde said. "We'll just stay out of her way from now on."

* * *

The sight of her small house and it's tiny, unkempt front garden littered with burger wrappers instead of flowers among the weeds brought a leap of relief for Kelsey. Gasping for air now, with a sharp pain shooting through her side as she moved, she managed to force her muscles to work harder and faster. When she reached the door she practically smashed into it, and was in such a state that it took her almost a minute of fumbling around to find the handle.

"And where have you been?" her mother called from the living as she heard the door open. Kelsey spun run to shut it, and quickly bolted it for extra security. "Detention again? What'd you do this time, you ain't set fire to nothing have you? I ain't got no money, you'll be payin' for any damage!"

Kelsey didn't reply, having no time for her unemployed mother's hypocrisy at that moment, and instead ran up the stairs two steps at a time.

"Stop thudding about up there!"

Ignoring the shout of anger, Kelsey wrenched open her bedroom door, and once inside grabbed a chair and shoved it in front of it, as though a cheap plastic chair would make it impossible for anything alien or threatening to get in. For a moment she stood there, breathing heavily, as the dust settled on what had just happened.

Suddenly, the full force of everything whammed into her with the force of double decker bus, and she collapsed onto the bed, her hands clamped tightly over her mouth to muffle her screaming sobs. Repressed and warped memories were awakened, and flashed behind her eyes like some horrific movie-wailing alarms in an evacuated factory, her crushing fright and confusion, an enormous and grotesque monster towering above her, an attic full of things so alien, staring through a safe into the heart of a black hole, the feeling of something burning within her before everything shifted and she was no longer herself…

She had tried so hard to keep those memories locked away, avoided that strange boy and Maria, clung with close-minded determination to the stories of a hoax or chemicals as explanations for alien activity. Deep down, she remembered, and always had. She never drank bottled drinks anymore, only ever tap water. She hated the endless stretch of the black night sky, and feared it more than anything. But she had kept going and tried to move on, her feeble barriers managing to hold back the truth. Occasionally a trickle of blood-chilling terror or a stray image leaked through, but never like today. That boy Clyde had crashed through the barriers like there was nothing there at all, letting the memories flood through and once again left Kelsey struggling with the destruction of her secure world.

It was like the full weight of the universe was pressing against her from all angles, constricting and suffocating her, crushing her with a force stronger than gravity. Clyde was absolutely right-some people couldn't handle it. Some, when presented with the raw truth of the universe, embraced it and saw the beauty and infinite possibilities, even welcomed the spark of fear that came with it. They relished the adventure. Others are like Kelsey-that spark of fear thrives and burns within them until it's a raging fire, with the power to break a person and drive them to the point of insanity. Denial had held her together. But no more.

A million dangers, a million fears, a million what-ifs, all rushing through Kelsey's burning and screaming mind, she was so scared. She knew the secrets, and now that Clyde knew she couldn't cope. What if he told that woman, Sarah-Jane? What if she decided something had to be done? She had insulted the boy, Luke, who knew what he was capable of? He was designed for the death of a world, Kelsey was sure he could kill her without a second's thought, he certainly had the means and now she had given him a motive…

Her heart pounding against her chest like a beating fist, she considered her options. Her father was either too busy working or too busy drinking. Her mother would never believe her. Who could she call? The police? It was her only option. For once, Kelsey didn't care about looking stupid. She feared for her life, and had only the slim chance that the police or someone in some way connected to them knew about aliens.

She tugged her phone out of her pocket, dialled the number for emergency services as quickly as she could with shaking hands, and held it to her ear. She tried to steady her gasping breaths, to take in as much air as she could before she told her story. And her story would be told, and Sarah-Jane's close guarded secrets revealed to bring devastation.

Because someone was always listening. UNIT was always waiting.


	4. Dangerous Secrets

**I would have updated this sooner, but I was busy with Halloween (I hope you had a good one if you celebrate it!) and other various little things that got in the way.**

**Anywho, this chapter is basically laying the foundations for the next, which is when everything finally kicks off! I have that chapter all written up and ready, and will be posted tomorrow for sure.**

**Until then, I hope you enjoy this chapter! **

* * *

"You know," Clyde said as they walked carefully along the icy path back to Sarah-Jane's house, "I don't think we should tell Sarah-Jane about Kelsey." Luke turned to frown at him.

"Why not?"

"You know how she gets, she'll flip." Clyde noticed Luke's familiar look of ashamed confusion, and sighed. "She'll get angry and upset."

"But there's probably a reason for that," Luke pointed out.

"It'll be fine, Kelsey's known all this time, Sarah-Jane doesn't need to know about her going all psycho," Clyde said with a shrug, trying to sound casual, but speaking far too quickly.

"Which means you don't want her to know you provoked her?" Luke said, guessing the real reason. "You shouldn't have done that, Clyde."

"She annoyed me, I didn't know she'd react like that! And anyway, what could she possibly do? No one's going to believe her if she starts going on about aliens," Clyde said. Luke still looked doubtful. "Trust me, it'll be fine. But you'd better not tell Rani either, she'll only blab to Sarah-Jane."

They reached the majestic, red bricked house and Clyde gratefully went to open the door, desperate for warmth, but even as he reached for the handle it opened from the inside. Sarah-Jane stood in the doorway, glowering at them both, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Luke waited for Clyde to say something. Clyde waited for Luke to say something.

"…It wasn't our fault?" Clyde said hopefully when Luke-who he thought was supposed to be the genius- failed to do anything other than look scared out of his wits. Aliens? Whatever, they could handle it. Saving the world? All in a day's work. Angry Sarah-Jane? Terrifying.

"If it wasn't your fault, would you care to explain why you were in detention?" Sarah-Jane asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. She struggled to get any sort of answer by listening to Clyde as he launched into a furious rant about unfairness, while Luke stammered something about a button and some gum. After about a minute of it she held up her hands to silence them.

"OK, OK! Just don't let me hear of you getting in detention again, got it?" she said sternly.

"Yes, mum," Luke mumbled, looking at his shoes in shame. Sarah-Jane patted him on the arm, and gave him a small smile of forgiveness. Then she raised her eyebrows at Clyde, who had his arms folded stubbornly.

"It still wasn't our fault," he grumbled. For a moment Sarah-Jane looked like she was about to scold him, but then-to his relief-her eyes crinkled and she let out a laugh.

"Oh, there's no point having a go, is there?" she said, shaking her head at him. "I'm sure your mum will have plenty to say when you get home, anyhow."

"Fantastic," Clyde said sarcastically, causing her to laugh at him again.

"Come on, Luke," she said, stepping aside to allow him into the hallway. She gave Clyde a knowing look. "And I suppose you want to come in too, to hide from your mum?"

"No," Clyde said haughtily. "I just think Luke needs some company after that moron Saunders went nuts at him earlier. What sort of mate would I be if I just went home? I have a strong sense of loyalty, and I think it would be shameful not to-"

"You can come in, Clyde. There's no need for the dramatics," Sarah-Jane interrupted dryly.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Clyde sniffed, then stepped past her into the house. "LUKE!" he hollered as soon as he was inside, then headed straight for the kitchen. "LUKE!"

"What?"

"Do you have any Doritos?"

"I don't think so."

Sarah-Jane smiled to herself and closed the door, then followed the sound of rustling packets and slamming cupboard doors to her kitchen, which Clyde was raiding manically as though he hadn't eaten in weeks.

"Do you have _anything_ worth eating?" he asked after failing to find anything containing excessive amounts of sugar or salt.

"If you mean do we have any junk food, no," Sarah-Jane said bluntly, snapping on the kettle to make tea. "If you want food you'll have to make do with fruit."

"Fruit," Clyde repeated, saying the word with the deepest disgust as he picked a shiny red apple out of the fruit bowl. "Ew."

"If you're not going to eat it, put it back," Sarah-Jane said irritably, throwing a teabag into a daisy-patterned china cup with a little more anger than she would usually have done. "If you're going to tear apart my kitchen like some kind of scavenging racoon the least you could do is be polite about it!"

"Woah, sorry," Clyde said, putting back the apple and holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Don't shoot, I'll never be rude about fruit again!" Sarah-Jane gave him a scathing look as the doorbell rang out.

"I'll get it!" Luke called from the hallway.

"Saved by the bell," Clyde said cheerfully.

"I'd watch it Clyde, or I'll ban you from my kitchen," Sarah-Jane threatened. Clyde snorted, and Luke walked in, looking oddly sheepish.

"So who was at the door this time?" Clyde asked with light sarcasm. "A squidy-alien thing? A freaky nun?"

"Er…actually Clyde, it's-"

"Your _mother_." Carla Langer walked in from behind Luke, her face stony. From look on Clyde's face, he'd rather it_ was_ an alien.

"Oh, um-"

"I thought you might be here," she said, her voice laced with the dangerous tone that every son or daughter learnt to dread. "I think we should go home and discuss a call I got from the school today."

"Well, the thing is…I would, but I need to stay here and, um, help Sarah-Jane…fix…her computer. Right Sarah-Jane?" Clyde turned to Sarah-Jane in desperation who, instead of backing up the rather pathetic lie, smiled sweetly.

"Oh, I can manage without your help, Clyde," she said brightly, and Clyde glowered at her. "I wouldn't want to keep you."

"Thank you," Carla said with a warm smile, which instantly disappeared as she looked to Clyde. "Come on."

"Cheers, Sarah-Jane," Clyde whispered bitterly as he went to follow his mother out, and she smiled.

"Don't mention it."

With one final glare, Clyde was herded out of the door by his mother to what was sure to be a very long and painful lecture. Sarah-Jane picked up the apple from the fruit bowl and tossed it up in the air before catching it expertly, a smile on her face.

"Take note, Luke," she said. "Don't ever insult my kitchen stock."

"I do feel a bit bad for him though," Luke said guiltily, hearing the sound of Carla Langer's car start up outside. "It was my fault that he was in trouble in the first place, really."

"What actually happened?" Sarah-Jane asked, picking up her cup of tea and leaning against the counter.

"Mr Saunders went off on one."

"I want the story in your words, not Clyde's."

"But I'm still not sure what I did," Luke said. "Mr Saunders suddenly got angry because he couldn't get the projector work, and when I told him how to he got annoyed and gave me detention."

"You hurt his pride," Sarah-Jane explained, then looked slightly angry. "That's still no reason to give you detention, though."

"Yeah, that's basically what Clyde said." Luke looked increasingly more guilty. "Shouted, really. And he called Mr Saunders an idiot, and got detention as well."

"Not the best way of handling the situation," Sarah-Jane said to herself, taking a sip of her tea.

"Then he spat out gum in his face."

"Well, that must have made things a whole lot worse," Sarah-Jane said, trying to look stern but unable to keep a pleased smile from pulling at her lips. "Still, it's nice that he looked out for you. How was the detention? Did you have to do lines?"

"We…" Luke trailed off, thinking of Kelsey and how Clyde argued with her, how they chased her and found her hysterical…and how she called him a freak. He knew Sarah-Jane would be upset if he told her, and would-as Clyde had said-'flip'. Perhaps Clyde was right and they shouldn't say anything. It wasn't lying exactly, just leaving out the whole truth.

"You…?" Sarah-Jane prompted, and Luke realised he'd been silent for a while as he considered what to do. He'd seen Clyde and Rani casually lie to their parents all the time like it came naturally to them. But he hated it-it felt like a betrayal of trust.

But if he did tell Sarah-Jane the truth, he would be betraying Clyde, who had expressly asked him not to.

"We…we didn't have to write lines," he said, feeling the heat filling his face as he tried to avoid looking her in the eye. "We just sat there, really. I, um, need to do some homework. In my room."

"Oh, OK," Sarah-Jane said in surprise as he half-ran out of the room in an attempt to get away from the horrible guilt that practically lying had caused. "Wait, what do you want for dinner?"

"Anything, I don't mind!" he shouted as he thudded up the stairs. She frowned and put her still unfinished cup of tea back on the counter, her journalist's and mother's intuition combined sending her a clear message-something was being kept from her.

* * *

Whatever Luke was hiding from her, Sarah-Jane thought, he was certainly determined to keep it hidden.

Despite her many subtle hints that she had noticed his strange mood, he kept his secret over the entire weekend. Clyde was grounded by his mother, so in order to escape Sarah-Jane's questioning Luke spent a lot of his time at Rani's house. Sarah-Jane had wondered if Rani was in on the secret too, but that was soon cleared up on Sunday afternoon, when an anxious looking Rani had entered the attic.

"Sarah-Jane?" she asked, taking a hesitant step towards her. Sarah-Jane looked up from the files she was looking over.

"Yes?"

"Do you know what's up with Luke and Clyde?" she asked seriously. Sarah-Jane put down the files, frowning.

"You don't know?" she asked in disbelief. Rani shook her head.

"I've got no idea. Luke's been acting weird, kind of awkward and jumpy."

"Yes, I've noticed," Sarah-Jane said. "What about Clyde?"

"It's harder to notice with him, but when I called him to ask about Luke he seemed a bit _too_ relaxed when he answered, if you know what I mean," Rani said, and Sarah-Jane nodded. "And Luke gets suddenly very nervous when I'm on the phone with Clyde. They're hiding something."

"It's not like Luke to keep secrets from me," Sarah-Jane said, then let out a small laugh. "Which is probably because he's so bad at it. I suspect that Clyde's told him not to tell me something."

"Should I try and get it out of him?" Rani offered.

"I've already tried. He gives away instantly that he's hiding something, but won't tell me what."

"D'you think it's serious?" Rani asked, concerned.

"Oh, I doubt it. It's most likely something to do with that detention they had. I'll find out soon enough."

"How?"

"Rani," Sarah-Jane said with a grin. "I'm a journalist. I have my ways of getting people to talk." At this, Rani laughed.

"I bet you do! Well, I better go. Dad's making dinner, he'll be in a strop if I'm late there to shower him with praise," she joked, then held up a hand by way of farewell. "See you."

"Bye Rani." Sarah-Jane watched after her as she left the attic, smiling. She was a good friend to Luke. She was also more intuitive and bright than she realised, and Sarah-Jane knew she'd have no trouble pursuing career as a journalist.

It was also good to know that she too was going to be on Luke and Clyde's case. It was starting to bother Sarah-Jane.

"Oh, I'll figure it out soon enough," she sighed to herself, then went back to scanning the papers to distract herself. Soon she was completely focused on them, her mind finally off whatever Luke was hiding in the comfort that either she or Rani would soon figure it out.

But she was wrong. The secret was more important and more dangerous than Sarah-Jane realised, or even Luke or Clyde themselves. And by the time it was finally revealed, it would be too late.


	5. No Escape

**So here's the update, as promised. I listened to sad DW music to write this chapter to inspire me, and hopefully it worked. Even if I did get a bit distracted and started tearing up over Ten's regeneration...**

**Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, I really appreciate it :)**

* * *

That Sunday night there was silence all through the dark house. Sarah-Jane was sleeping deeply, and Luke was sitting up late in his room, reading a Physics book by the dim orange light of his bedside lamp. He shifted slightly so that more light fell across page fifty-nine, when a voice broke the peaceful quiet of the night.

"Sarah-Jane."

Luke looked up at the sound of Mr Smith's voice, frowning. It wasn't like him to speak up without being called…maybe he had imagined it. No-there it was again.

"Sarah-Jane."

Luke waited for the sounds of his mother getting up, but none came. So he reluctantly shut his book, and got up himself to see what was so important. The attic was pitch black when he went inside, but Mr Smith was out, his screen throwing soft, swirling multi-coloured light onto the walls. Luke switched on the lights to banish the eerie darkness, and approached the computer curiously.

"What do you want?" he asked. When Mr Smith responded his voice was cool and calm, not at all in fitting with the news he brought.

"There has been an explosion at a warehouse not far from here," he said, bringing a map up onto the screen to pinpoint the exact location. "UNIT are on site."

"You think it has something to do with aliens?" Luke asked.

"I cannot think of any other reason as to why UNIT would be involved."

"Mum!" Luke shouted over his shoulder. "Mum!" There was the sound of pounding footsteps, and Sarah-Jane burst into the attic.

"What is it? What's wrong?" she asked frantically, rushing over and looking around, as though expecting to see an overbearing alien about to rip them apart.

"I'm fine, it's just Mr Smith's picked up on something," Luke said. Sarah-Jane frowned.

"At this time of night?"

"With all due respect, Sarah-Jane, aliens are not prone to visiting at the hours deemed to be polite," Mr Smith said, and although his tone of voice never really changed she sensed a slightly cynical edge to it that she didn't care for.

"Yes, thank you," she snapped. "Now can you just tell me what you've found?"

"Certainly." Mr Smith's screen promptly split into two separate sections, one showing a rundown, cavernous looking warehouse and the other a map showing its exact location and postcode. "Approximately one hour ago an explosion was recorded at this warehouse in Ealing."

"Was anybody hurt?" Sarah-Jane asked in concern.

"The warehouse was scheduled to be demolished in a few weeks' time, and was no longer in use, so it is unlikely that there were people inside at the time of the explosion."

"Well, what caused it?" Sarah-Jane asked, her curiosity roused. "Was it an accident?"

"The cause of the explosion is not yet confirmed," Mr Smith said. "But UNIT have been called to the scene, which is why I felt it necessary to alert you to the incident."

"Aliens?" Sarah-Jane asked, looking surprised. Luke too looked puzzled.

"But why would an alien want to destroy an empty warehouse that was going to be demolished anyway?" he asked.

"Exactly," Sarah-Jane said thoughtfully. "It doesn't make any sense…Mr Smith, do you have any idea what UNIT are looking for?"

"Regretfully, no."

Sarah-Jane looked to be considering something, a serious expression on her face, while Luke tried to think of a reason why an alien would want to blow up an empty building. Attention, maybe? But then why would it want to draw attention to itself?

"How many UNIT officers are on site?" Sarah-Jane asked after about a minute.

"I do not know the exact number of officers, but five UNIT vehicles were dispatched at eleven twenty nine PM tonight to the site of the explosion," Mr Smith answered. She nodded slowly, and studied the map on screen.

"I could get there in thirty minutes," she said slowly, working it out. "Maybe less." Luke looked to her.

"We're going to investigate?" he asked.

"No," she said sternly, already anticipating an argument. "I am, you're not. It's not worth the risk of you getting noticed by UNIT." Luke nodded miserably-he wasn't happy about it, but it made sense.

"OK. I'll stay here."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. She turned and hurried to the door, calling over her shoulder, "Mr Smith, keep searching for information on the situation and update me if anything changes."

"Yes, Sarah-Jane," Mr Smith said obediently. Luke looked troubled as he followed.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"To get changed," Sarah-Jane said, indicating her pyjamas, fluffy dressing gown and slippers. "I'm hardly about to take on UNIT and a possible alien in my PJs."

"But what if it's dangerous?" Luke asked, stopping her as she put her hand on the door handle. "I can't go, but maybe Rani or Clyde could go with you so you aren't alone."

"I'll be fine," Sarah-Jane assured him, trying not to show how touched she was by his concern. "I've done things myself before; I'm perfectly capable of handling the situation." Luke still looked worried, and she put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'll be fine. I promise."

"If I could make a suggestion," Mr Smith spoke up, "I could track Sarah-Jane's phone to show you her location, if that would be of some reassurance."

"There, see?" Sarah-Jane said brightly, opening the attic door. "Now I really have to hurry, maybe you could ring Maria if the time's right in America."

"Yeah." Luke watched, a sickly feeling of worry and foreboding in his gut as Sarah-Jane disappeared through the door and rushed off to get ready to leave. He still found something strange and unsettling about the whole thing, and especially hated the idea of her going off on her own.

Behind him, Mr Smith's screen changed to one single image of a map, with a small, flashing red dot that showed the location of Sarah-Jane's phone. Unsurprisingly, Luke didn't find it much comfort.

* * *

"I'm sure she's fine."

It was around fifteen minutes since Luke had watched Sarah-Jane's car pull out of the driveway, and the sickly feeling hadn't gotten any better, even after he had rung Maria on video chat when the silence and waiting had gotten too much to handle. Normally he would have been ecstatic to see her, but there was no room for any emotion other than worry.

"Yes, but what if she's not?" Luke asked her anxiously.

"But what if she is? She's been doing this sort of thing her whole life, she'll probably be fine," Maria said, giving him what was meant to be a reassuring smile. But Luke saw the same worry he felt mirrored in her own dark eyes.

"I just have a bad feeling," he said earnestly, desperate to make her understand why he was so anxious. "We don't know what's really going on yet, what aliens were involved if there were any, or why." Maria had just opened her mouth to reply, when Mr Smith suddenly spoke.

"UNIT vehicles are pulling up outside the house," he said urgently.

"What?" Luke asked in panic, pushing back his chair and leaping to his feet so quickly that the table his laptop was resting on shuddered. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Luke? What's happening?" Maria asked anxiously, wishing that she could see and hear more clearly.

"Mr Smith, de-activate," Luke commanded quickly, ignoring Maria. "Now!" There was a hiss followed by a mechanical whirring sound as Mr Smith closed in on himself.

"What's going on?" Maria asked again fearfully as Luke ran straight past the laptop screen, the image fracturing and pixilating as it struggled to keep up with the speed of his frantic actions. "I heard him say something about UNIT-"

"UNIT are outside," Luke said in rush, and Maria could see him snatching up armfuls of alien artefacts and hiding them wherever he could-behind the sofa, under the cushions, anywhere. "I don't know why."

"Do you think they've just come to see Sarah-Jane?" Maria asked hopefully, but already knowing that wasn't the reason. Luke shook his head, grabbing a folder and tucking it behind a bookcase.

"It would be strange, they haven't given any warning and to show up at this time of…" he trailed off, suddenly going still, frozen to the spot with horror and realisation.

"Luke? What is it?" Maria asked shakily.

"This can't be a coincidence," he said quietly, feeling ice-cold fear creep into his veins. "That warehouse exploding…UNIT…just thirty minutes away…"

"I don't understand-"

"I knew it didn't make sense, and it's too coincidental. It's some kind of trap, Maria, it must be," Luke said, and she heard the tremor in his own voice. "They could be after Mum…"

"Never mind Sarah-Jane, you have to get out of there!"

There was a sudden crash from downstairs and the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass as the door was kicked down. At the sound Luke whirled to face the door, the blood draining from his face.

"UNIT, SURRENDER YOURSELF!" The shout rung out, and could be heard clearly by Maria and Luke upstairs. A jolt of terror ran down Luke's spine that rooted him to the floor, and Maria's eyes were wide.

"Luke, run!" she said desperately, but he either wouldn't or couldn't move. "Hide!"

"It's too late," he whispered, and Maria wanted nothing more than to be there with him, to help him. But she was miles away, across oceans.

And she could only watch, hopeless, as the door to the attic slammed open and an army of UNIT officers burst in, guns ready to take the life of one of the people she loved most in the world.

* * *

Rani's room was dark, and she lay in bed, cocooned by a thick wrap of blankets against the chilly night. She was just beginning to drift off to sleep, when the lights of a car passed by her window and illuminated the room briefly through the curtains, before darkness fell again. Rani took little notice, as it wasn't uncommon for the odd car to drive past her house at night.

But then another passed by. And other. And another.

She sat up groggily, frowning. An unpleasant feeling set in as her head cleared, and she realised that the steady growl of the engines outside her window had to belong to a much bigger vehicle than a car. The faint yellow light shining through her thin curtains suddenly disappeared, and she heard the engines cut, followed the sound of opening and closing doors rebounding off the silence. But, she realised with suspicion, there were no voices. It was too quiet. Someone didn't want to be heard.

Slowly, she pulled back the covers and got out of bed, steeling herself against the slight bite in the air despite being inside. By habit she reached to switch the bedside lamp on, then stopped in her tracks; she didn't want the people outside (whoever they might be) to see the glow from her window and know someone was watching.

So she stumbled over to her window in the dark, and pulled back the curtains slightly to peer outside.

Through the slit in the curtains and misty glass she could just see a handful of black SUVs parked in the shadows of her street by Sarah-Jane's house. Rani noticed with worry that Sarah-Jane's car was gone, but a light was on upstairs. Everything about the situation screamed a warning, and Rani was absolutely sure something was wrong when she spotted the logo stamped on the side of one the vehicles, glinting and awfully clear in the pool of light cast by the single street lamp.

UNIT.

The name sent a bolt of electricity through her, shocking her wide awake and into to life.

She let the curtain fall back into place, ran across her room, snatched up the jacket that was hanging off the back of her desk chair and hurriedly pulled it over her pyjamas. After shoving on some trainers she opened the door to her room as quickly and quietly as she could without waking her parents and dashed down the stairs. As she hastily unlocked the front door she pulled her phone out of her pocket and speed-dialled Clyde's number with trembling fingers.

"Come on, Clyde, pick up," she begged in a whisper, stepping outside into the crisp, freezing sharpness of the night air. The phone rang for what seemed like an age, while Rani stood shivering outside the house. She was just making the most of her time looking for a possible weapon when Clyde finally picked up.

"Rani," he murmured, sounding exhausted. "Do you have any idea what time it is-"

"Shut up, Clyde!" Rani interrupted, and he must have heard the fright in her voice, because he actually stopped. "UNIT's parked outside Sarah-Jane's house."

"_What_?"

"I know, I'm going over there," Rani said, sounding much braver than she really felt inside. Her eyes picked out a wooden cricket bat tucked behind some gardening equipment by the wall, and she picked it up. The wood was softened by the rain and snow, but it would do.

"You can't!" Clyde said, and she heard the rustle of bed sheets as he got out of bed. "Wait, I'll go over there-"

"I need to get there now," Rani said, already running across the road, the bat swinging by her side. "Sarah-Jane's not in, I need you to call her and tell her what's happened. She doesn't trust UNIT, and neither do I."

"No! Wait, Rani-" She cut off the call and stuffed the phone back into her pocket. As she got nearer the house, she slowed to a jog, then finally a stop. The tall house looked suddenly threatening as it loomed above her against the black sky, and it took every last drop of courage she had to force herself to take that first step towards the front door. She gripped the bat tightly with her cold-numbed hands, and held it up by her shoulder as she approached the door, ready to swing out and attack if necessary. A strangled cry of horror escaped her as she saw the front of the house.

The door had literally been knocked off its hinges, and lay in pieces in the hallway. She walked in slowly, the broken, glittering glass from the door's colourful window crunching under her feet.

She jumped as there were loud thuds from upstairs, followed by a yell.

"If you struggle we'll shoot!"

Rani's felt fear flood her insides, before a white-hot fury reared up inside her. She didn't care if they were UNIT or salesmen for ASDA, they had no right to break into Sarah-Jane's house. She pounded up the stairs as fast as she could, pulling herself along using the banister, and up to the attic. In a snap second she saw an unfamiliar, uniformed man by the doorway to the attic, and swung out clumsily with the bat. He must have seen the movement out of the corner of his eye because he turned, his gun poised to shoot. But by sheer luck the bat found its mark and smashed into the side of his face, and he crashed into the doorframe before sliding to the floor. In a foolish but brave movement Rani ran past him and into the attic, where the sight of nightmares met her eyes.

At least ten more UNIT officers were inside, weapons all trained on Luke, who had his arms pinned behind his back and a gun pressed to his temple by a hard-faced, female officer. Her head snapped towards her as she entered, and Luke's face collapsed with terror.

"Go!" he yelled, trying in vain to escape the officer's grip and run to her. "Rani, run!"

"Grab the girl!"

Before Rani had a chance to react to the order, an officer grabbed her arms and expertly twisted the bat from her grasp, then slammed and held her against the wall.

"Let her go, she hasn't done anything!" Luke shouted angrily, still struggling. The woman holding him tightened her grip and cuffed him over the head.

"You are not the one issuing commands!" she bellowed in his ear, causing him to flinch. Through watering eyes, Rani noticed the open laptop on the table, and recognised the image of Maria on screen. For a moment she thought it was a photograph-a screen saver maybe-but then it _moved_. Maria was watching the whole thing through webcam, silent and unnoticed by the occupied officers. Rani supposed UNIT's attack must have interrupted a video call. Maria saw Rani had seen her, and shook her head wildly, putting a shaking finger to her lips-_Don't let them know I'm watching. _Rani checked to see that the officer holding her was watching Luke, and gave the tiniest and inconspicuous of nods she could.

"You confirm that you are…" the burly, male officer addressing Luke sneered horribly. "'_Luke Smith'_?"

"So what if I am?" Luke asked, looking up at the officer with a degree of hatred and fear that Rani had never seen in him before.

"We know who you are," the officer said coldly. "We know _what_ you are."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Luke said, but the scared look in his eyes gave away the lie. Not that they would have believed him anyway.

"We've had a tip off and know the truth. We know Luke Smith isn't real and that you aren't human-"

"Yes I am!" Luke protested, and the look on his face nearly broke Rani's heart, and with a glance she saw tears running down Maria's cheeks.

"You were never at a children's home and never had parents," the officer continued, ignoring Luke, "and the ones on your adoption papers don't exist. Sarah-Jane Smith covered it up admirably, but the pretence stops now. UNIT have a duty to apprehend and hold you as an alien threat and execute if necessary…"

As the officer went through the necessary speech Luke closed his eyes tightly, but couldn't stop the single tear that leaked out and splashed to the floor. Rani felt her own eyes burn and she looked again to Maria, who pointed wordlessly at the door.

_No, _Rani mouthed, tears dropping from her own eyes as she shook her head. Maria swallowed and nodded at the distracted officer, then pointed at herself.

_I'll distract them,_ she mouthed at Rani. Rani looked pointedly at Luke, but Maria looked down, wiping her eyes. She didn't need to mouth or signal what she knew. That there was nothing they could do. Maria looked up, fresh tears still falling, and held up three fingers to count down.

_One down._

_Two down._

_Three._

"Hey!" Maria shouted as loudly as she could, her voice cracking with pain. "Over here!"

While they were distracted looking for the source of the sound Rani slammed her knee into the officer holding her, and shoved him away roughly. She turned to make a dash for the door, but another officer came out of nowhere and blocked her exit.

"Get off me!" she snarled as he grabbed her arms. She struggled, but he kept a firm hold and lifted her off the floor, then threw her roughly and carelessly to one side. Her head slammed against a table as she crashed to the ground, and her vision shifted and blurred. She tried to draw on the energy to get up, to fight, but could feel her consciousness draining. The last thing she saw was Luke fighting wildly, then going limp in the officer's arms as a needle was plunged into his neck. The last thing she heard was Maria's screaming before it was suddenly cut off as the laptop was swept off the desk.

The last thing Rani felt was a tear on her face.


	6. Broken

**I really wanted to update earlier this week, but stuff kept coming up and I just didn't have time. Sorry!**

**Maria may seem a little out of character in this chapter, but I'm aiming for her to seem different after the shock of what just happened. Basically, she's extremely upset and hysterical XD**

**Thanks for the reviews for the last chapter, you're the best :) Hope you like the update! Sorry the line break after Maria's bit doesn't show up, it's being stupid. I'll replace it with something else.**

* * *

"NO!" Maria screamed as the screen went black, severing the link between her and Luke. As she had watched the event unfold, horrified but unable to turn away, she had really felt the distance between them, how far from where she had to be she was. She had only been able to watch him suffer, unable to save. Feel the agony of being able to see it all happen, the overwhelming pull to help, but to not be able to reach him.

But she wasn't going to give up. Not ever.

She leapt up, rushed across her room and dragged out her suitcase from under her bed where it had stayed since moving to America, flung open her wardrobe and began stuffing clothes into it carelessly, still choking on her tears but determined to be ready to leave as soon as possible. There _was_ distance between them, but Maria wouldn't give up. You never win that way.

When the suitcase was nearly full and clothes and other objects were strewn across Maria's room, Alan came home from work, blissful in his ignorance with no idea what he was about to walk into.

"Maria?" he asked, taking in the state of her room. "What…Maria?" His tone of voice changed as he saw the open suitcase and the crazed look on his daughter's tear stained face as she rummaged through a drawer.

"Where's my passport?" she demanded to know, spinning around to face him.

"Maria, what on Earth is going on-"

"_Where is it_?" she asked again, her voice rising to a near hysterical shout.

"My…my top drawer, but Maria-" He stopped as she pushed past him and ran across the hallway into his room, where she yanked open the drawer and began throwing things out, frantically searching for the passport. Alan followed, alarmed at her behaviour.

"What's going on, what's happened?" he asked anxiously, putting a hand on her arm. She shrugged away his grip and kept searching.

"It's Luke, they've taken him," she said as steadily as she could. "I saw them, I was on webcam with him and they came and they took him."

"Who did?"

"UNIT," she said, and her voice shook again. She stopped searching and whirled around, shaking madly, tears streaming down her face. "I…I have to go back, I have to save him-"

"Maria," Alan began regretfully, reaching out for her, but she pulled away sharply.

"No! We have to go, I have to save him! We have to go BACK!" she screamed, and Alan was struck by the raw pain and desperation in her voice. "I had to WATCH! I couldn't do anything! I have to go back home, I have to help him! I…I have to…" Her voice dissolved into loud wracking sobs, and she allowed Alan to pull her into a tight embrace, her screams and agonised cries muffled as he held her.

"OK," he said, his own voice thick as he stroked her hair. "We'll go back."

* * *

Clyde biked down the road as fast as he could, wishing that he had fixed his bike's lamp when his mum had told him to as he swerved lamp posts that leapt out at him in the dark. He struggled to steer while holding his mobile to his ear, but didn't slow down. His heart was in his mouth by the time Sarah-Jane answered.

"Hello?"

"Sarah-Jane!" Clyde said, sounding both relieved and afraid. "Something's going down at your house."

"What?" she asked in panic.

"Rani said UNIT are there, she went over to see what was going on, I told her not to but she did anyway. Obviously."

"Right, Clyde, whatever you do, don't go over there," Sarah-Jane said firmly. "Got that?"

"Loud and clear," Clyde replied as he turned into Bannerman Road.

"I'm serious Clyde, it could be dangerous. I don't trust UNIT, and don't want your blood on my hands."

"I won't, I promise," Clyde lied, noting with worry that if there had been UNIT vehicles outside the house, they were gone now. "Just get here fast, OK?"

"I'm on my way back now," she said grimly. "I'll get there was fast as I can, just stay away!"

"I know. Bye." Clyde snapped shut his phone and squealed to a halt in front of Sarah-Jane's house. He got off his bike, letting it fall with a clang onto the pavement, and tore across the driveway to Sarah-Jane's house.

"Oh no," he groaned when he saw the remains of the door. He gingerly walked across the glass and wood fragments, and called up the stairs.

"Luke! Rani!" He strained his ears for a reply or some kind of noise, but only heard a solid silence. "Hello?" Deeply worried now, Clyde cautiously began to climb the stairs. He had an awful memory of something similar happening in a horror movie, where the main character entered a seemingly empty house, went up the stairs and found the bodies of his family in a pool of blood. Before the killer came after_ him._

_Pull yourself together,_ Clyde told himself sternly, and kept climbing. When he reached the closed door to the attic, he paused with his hand on the handle, his breath caught in his throat.

_There'll be nothing there, _he told himself, but still felt sweat break out on his palms. _Just go in._

He opened the door slowly, wondering if it had always creaked like that. When he saw the attic, he stopped in his tracks, a wave of horror washing over him with enough force to knock him off his feet.

The objects that stood on tables around the room were disturbed, some broken into pieces on the floor, others knocked over were they stood. And crumpled on the floor was-

"Rani!" Clyde rushed over, sidestepping and stumbling over the mess of objects between them, and dropped to his knees beside her still body, rattled with fear. "Rani…please don't be dead, Rani…" He felt for a pulse, and for one heart-stopping moment thought there was nothing. But then it was there, and he let out a shuddering breath and hung his head.

"Thank you," he whispered to no one in particular, then put a hand on her face. "Rani," he said more loudly. "Wake up! Rani!" She didn't move or show any signs of hearing him, so he shook her gently, then a little more urgently. "Come on, Rani, please!" He had nearly given up, when she moaned softly, and opened her eyes a slit.

"Clyde?" she croaked, then frowned and sat up, putting a hand to her head. "Where…" She looked around. "What happened to the attic?" She struggled to her feet, holding onto Clyde for support.

"You don't remember?" he asked anxiously, and she looked confused.

"Kind of…it's fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream," she said, taking in the state of the room. "Wait…no, Clyde!" She grabbed his arm suddenly and tightly, her eyes wide and more scared than Clyde had ever seen them before.

"It's fine, I'm here, no one else is in the house-"

"No, Clyde-they took Luke!"

"…What?" Clyde's tone was dangerous, and Rani put her hand to her mouth as everything suddenly became clear again and her stomach churned.

"Oh God…they had guns Clyde, there was nothing I could do…I'm so sorry," she choked out, then turned away, fighting back sobs. For a moment Clyde couldn't find his voice, having lost it somewhere as the situation hit him with full force. He might never see his best friend again.

"It wasn't your fault," he said flatly. "You couldn't have done anything."

"I tried, I really tried…"

"I know you did."

"Clyde-"

"I know!" he snapped, then felt instantly ashamed for losing his temper with her. She didn't deserve it. "Sorry, it's just…" He trailed off miserably, staring at one of the broken objects at his feet. He reached down and picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was little, heart shaped disc studded with various buttons and one little screen. Only now the screen was cracked into different segments, like broken ice, and most of the little buttons had gone. The machine suddenly came to life in his hands; its screen lit up, and it gave a feeble little whistling sound before going still and dark. Clyde pressed a few of the buttons experimentally, but got no response. Whatever it once was, it had died. For some reason, Clyde felt a twinge of sadness. Perhaps it was because it emphasised the fact that UNIT had broken his family at Bannerman Road, and therefore broken him, possibly beyond repair. He never thought he'd see the day where he empathised for a piece of technology.

"Clyde," Rani said softly, infiltrating his bleak mood, "Sarah-Jane's back." Clyde wrenched his eyes away from the little broken disc, and looked out of the window to see she was right.

"Yeah," was all he could think to say. Rani stared at him, looking as sick as he felt.

"What are we going to tell her?"


	7. Despair and Pretence

**Update time! This chapter's not the best, but it needs to be done. Luke will return in the next chapter, and Maria not long after. It's just getting to that point XD**

**Thanks SO MUCH to everyone that reviewed. I've been under a lot of stress at the moment with coursework and other things, and your reviews really cheer me up and I love replying to them. **

**I realised I haven't done a disclaimer yet. I hardly ever do in my stories, they seem so pointless. But have one anyway:**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Sarah-Jane Adventures. I'm sure that's come as a real shocker to everyone! ;)**

* * *

A terrible silence heavy with despair greeted Sarah-Jane as she walked slowly into her attic, looking around in horror at the disturbed room.

"What happened?" she whispered, unable to make her voice any louder. Neither Clyde nor Rani replied, and she picked up a fallen object from the floor. "Broken," she said angrily, then looked around at the other objects littering the floor. "They had no right to come in here and do this…" This was her place, where she sheltered her past and embraced everything she loved. Rough sketches of the TARDIS were plastered a section of wall, to remind her of the past that she missed. There was a photo of her and K-9, and beautiful and deadly alien clutter; everything she could never show the world was kept in that little, amazing room. Her home. And UNIT had invaded that.

"Sarah-Jane," Clyde finally managed to say, his voice so quiet that it was barely a sound at all. Sarah-Jane turned to them, and seemed to notice the still pyjama-clad Rani's tear streaked face for the first time. No-that wasn't Sarah-Jane. She hadn't wanted to notice, but she had. And now she had no choice but to confront it.

"What's the matter?" she asked, and fear filled her eyes as the suspicion crept up on her, falling over her world like some ghastly shadow. She had really known as soon as she came in, had felt the pain and despair waiting at the back of her mind, but it was only now that she could pretend no more. Rani was crying. UNIT had been here and destroyed her home. There had to be a reason. And she knew deep down what it was. "…where's Luke?"

"He…he's…" Rani couldn't go on, and Clyde put an arm around her and let her cry onto her shoulder.

"Clyde? Where is he?" she asked, barely disguising the tremor in her voice. He opened his mouth, and then shook his head, his eyes hollow. "I said WHERE IS HE?" Sarah-Jane's voice suddenly became a shout, and Clyde flinched as though he'd been struck in the face.

"He's gone," Clyde said, wondering if he was going to be sick. "UNIT took him. He's gone." There was a long, painful silence before she spoke.

"Are you…are you sure?" Sarah-Jane asked with desperate hope. Her heart plummeted as Clyde nodded.

"Rani was there. She saw them." He looked at the floor as Sarah-Jane tried to muffle the strangled cry that escaped her, then turned away, her face in her hands.

"We'll get him back though, won't we?" Rani asked in a trembling voice. Sarah-Jane didn't reply, her back still to them. "S…Sarah-Jane?"

"Of course we will," Clyde answered for her, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "We got him back before, we'll do it again." Rani managed a small, half-hopeful smile that vanished as Sarah-Jane finally spoke, her voice empty of emotion with grief that seemed to have devoured her very self.

"This is UNIT," she said. "You have no idea how dangerous they can be. They could shoot you dead without a second thought if you threatened the rules." She walked across the attic, as though to distance herself before facing them. "When I go to save Luke I go alone."

"No!" Clyde protested hotly. "We're not just going to sit here-"

"Would you rather you got shot?" Sarah-Jane snapped, and Clyde fell silent. "I couldn't live with myself if you got killed! Either of you!"

"I couldn't live with myself if I let you go alone, and _you_ got killed! I couldn't live with myself if we didn't get Luke back!" Clyde countermined. "I know it will be dangerous, but-"

"But nothing," Sarah-Jane interrupted. "I mean it, Clyde. Neither of you are going." For a moment, Clyde looked like he was about to explode with rage, his fists clenched and trembling.

"Clyde…" Rani said gently, touching his arm. Her touch broke through the anger, but in turn exposed the painful emotions lying buried beneath.

He couldn't take it, and-afraid he was going to break down in front of an already fragile Sarah-Jane-Clyde suddenly rushed from the attic, slamming the door behind him so hard that the few objects remaining on the tables wobbled alarmingly. Sarah-Jane stared after him sadly, then drew in a deep breath.

"I think you should go too, Rani," she said. "Go home, or your parents might miss you."

"No," she said, shaking her head miserably. "I'm not leaving."

"Rani, I told you-"

"I'm not saying I want to embark on a rescue mission or anything," Rani said quickly. "Well, I do, but that's not why I want to stay. I don't want to leave you alone." Sarah-Jane was quiet for a moment before she replied.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I'm sorry, I never…I never asked. Are you OK?"

"Yeah," she said, glad that Sarah-Jane was still at least up to speaking. "I just hit my head, that's all. I tried Sarah-Jane," she blurted out. "I tried not to let them take him, I did, but there were too many of them, I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault, Rani, it was mine," Sarah-Jane said, looking distraught. "I should never have left him alone."

"Don't do that," Rani said sharply. "Don't blame yourself, you couldn't have known."

"I knew there was something wrong with that case," Sarah-Jane whispered, and Rani frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

"Tonight there was an explosion at an empty warehouse nearby. Mr Smith alerted us because UNIT were investigating. I went alone because…because I didn't want Luke near them." Sarah-Jane's voice cracked with anguish, but she carried on. "Except when I got there, I knew something was wrong. UNIT were there, but as soon as I pulled up it was all too clear that they weren't looking for an alien. The blaze in the building was long put out, and still they were just standing there. Waiting." Sarah-Jane remembered the familiar feeling of fear that had dawned on her as she saw that blackened building with smoke spiralling into the night sky, and the dozens of soldiers standing attentive in the dark, the priming of guns in unison as she approached. "Waiting for me."

"How did you get away?" Rani asked, her mind momentarily off the pain of losing Luke and captivated by the story.

"Barely. For a moment I was frozen, then I turned the car around and drove away as fast as I could. But even then, I just knew something was still wrong."

"Why?" Rani asked, and Sarah-Jane looked her dead in the eye, her eyes filled with the weary look of someone who had seen enough of the universe to know that although there was the beauty, there was also the despicable and terrible.

"Because they didn't fire a single bullet."

"It was a trap, then?" Rani said slowly, the pieced in her mind coming together to form one chilling picture. "To get you out of the house."

"Exactly. They fake an alien incident just down the road, and what happens? Predictable old Sarah-Jane comes running," she said bitterly, disgusted at herself. "All too easy! Either I would have taken Luke to them or left him alone, afraid they'd get him. Either way they'd got us outnumbered. Trapped. They must have known they'd won the second they saw I was by myself."

"They must be wary of you, though," Rani added, a little scared as Sarah-Jane struggled to hold back her tears; Sarah-Jane never cried.

"What?" she asked, looking confused.

"Think about it. They could have just attacked, but instead they tried to see if they could separate you first. Because they knew you'd fight and try to stop them, and maybe would." Rani gave Sarah-Jane a small smile. "Don't disappoint them."

"Of course I'll try and get him back-"

"No. You won't try and get him back, you will. I know you will." Rani sadly watched as Sarah-Jane's eyes filled with tears again, but didn't let a single one fall. "It's OK to cry, Sarah-Jane," Rani added quietly. Sarah-Jane quickly wiped a hand across her eyes and stood taller, her eyes filled with fresh determination and a glimmer of her old self.

"I won't cry until I'm defeated," she said, her voice cold and steely, but Rani knew it wasn't meant for her. "And that won't happen. Mr Smith, I need you." They both waited expectantly, but there was no movement or reply to the command.

"Mr Smith…?" Rani questioned nervously. "You don't think UNIT did something to him, do you?"

"He might just be deactivated," Sarah-Jane said, clinging onto that one hope. She marched over to a lever on the wall, making an effort to maintain her confident facade, and pushed up the lever with the firm demand: "Mr Smith, re-activate!" She and Rani waited, both with baited breath. The in fact small delay seemed to stretch for almost a minute, but finally the computer emerged in all his triumphant glory.

"Nice of you to appear," Sarah-Jane said impatiently.

"My apologies, Sarah-Jane, but Luke instructed me to commence de-activation, and in the circumstances of that time I thought it best to obey his command. I could not emerge until you instructed me to." If a computer-albeit an alien computer-could pause awkwardly, that was what Mr Smith did. "Where is Luke?"

"Where do you think he is?" Sarah-Jane found herself asking in a furious tone. Mr Smith had done nothing wrong, but at that moment she needed to vent her anger at something, anything. The ferocity of a mother whose child was stolen. "You're supposed to be smart, work out the probability of what could have happened and figure out where he is!" Her voice became hysterical, and Rani stepped up beside her, taking her hand comfortingly. But it did nothing to help Sarah-Jane.

"I am sorry, Sarah-Jane," the computer said. She laughed harshly.

"Sorry? You take your commands from me, you should have stayed out and protected him!" she shouted.

"My purpose is to protect the Earth," Mr Smith said, sounding a little peeved. "If UNIT had discovered and destroyed me it would have considerably reduced your chances of defeating any alien threats to the planet."

"Not to sound full of yourself or anything," Rani muttered, but Sarah-Jane was full on enraged.

"So you chose to save _yourself_?"

"I chose to put the well-being of the Earth first."

"Before my son's!"

"Yes. Humans lead with their hearts; I use logical thinking and serve my purpose. Humans are also prone to angry outbursts in trying situations, not always directed at the right person. It is UNIT you ought to be fighting, not me," Mr Smith said. Sarah-Jane felt the anger begin to ebb, until she was left feeling only embarrassed, ashamed and, most of all, hopelessly distraught once again. But she couldn't let Rani see that-she had to keep her cool exterior.

"You're right," she told the computer. "I'm sorry."

"I accept your apology," Mr Smith said graciously. "Is there something that you wanted, Sarah-Jane?"

"Yes. Tell me where UNIT will have taken my son."

* * *

The park was almost pitch black, with only sections lit by the pools of weak orange light cast by the few street lamps that faintly buzzed in the quiet. It seemed almost creepy without children sliding down the ice-coated slide or climbing the dark mass that was the climbing frame. A bicycle lay abandoned on the grass near the swing that Clyde was sitting on. He was clutching the freezing metal chain, causing it to creak slightly as he moved. His breath escaped him in smoke-like clouds that faded into the night, and to distract himself from the cold he found himself staring up at the stars winking down at him. Suddenly he remembered one night where Luke had randomly started spouting all that he knew about stars, which was both funny and irritating at the same time. Clyde would give anything for him to be with him now, even if he was unintentionally boring him to death.

Clyde couldn't go home. It didn't feel right to hear that sort of news and go home. Everything had changed, and he didn't know how to make it normal again. There was no mystery to solve, no evil aliens to battle. Just the cold, hard fact that UNIT had taken Luke.

What if he never saw him again? Clyde thought of all the times he had called Luke weird, a loser or uncool. He never meant it, but found himself wondering with a sickening feeling if Luke had sometimes thought he had. He needed to make sure Luke knew he hadn't meant it, that he knew he was his best friend. More than that. Clyde had often felt alone, even though he had his mum. It wasn't quite enough, and his 'friends' before he moved had been the wrong crowd, harbouring a genuine hatred for everything and everyone that Clyde had only pretended to have. Luke was different. Clyde had taught him how to be cool, and enjoyed feeling like a wise leader rather than someone trying to be stupid to fit in. He had laughed with him and occasionally at him, had teased him and protected him and voiced thoughts and feelings to him that would never be understood by anyone else.

Luke was the brother he'd never had. And he was gone.

Clyde would try his hardest to get him back, but when he saw the fear and horror in Sarah-Jane's eyes he had been shaken to his core. If she had doubts…

In the light of the lamps he saw tiny flakes of snow swirling down from the sky, becoming steadily more thick and fast. The flakes settled on the grass, but the promise of snow brought Clyde no happiness. It might never again. He felt hot tears in his eyes, but quickly blinked them back before hurriedly getting off the swing and walking over to his bike. He brushed the flecks of snow from the seat and began to wheel it out of the park, fighting to keep his tears back.

It wasn't cool to cry.


	8. Trapped

**Hello :) So, I saw the latest Doctor Who preview...sooo...moonites. Way it's looking, christmas could go either way. I'm still excited, though XD**

**Right, this chapter is a bit short, I know. But that's because I need to show you Luke, because otherwise I'll have people asking me where he is, what's happening etc. So here, he's in this chapter. I do have a plan for the story and the next chapter, and of course Luke will be in it a lot, as the story is about him. I just needed to make sure it made sense-he couldn't have been in the last chapter, as he would have either gotten to where he is*sorry, spoilers ;)* ridiculously quickly or would be asleep in the back of a van.**

**So that's my excuse XD**

**This chapter's a little miserable (like the past few), but perks up later on with some comedy relief, perhaps a bit of Clani. I'll update very soon, I've partially written the next chapters. My writing's all over the place, I have ideas that won't go in order XD Anywho, hope you enjoy and thanks for your reviews!**

* * *

Both Rani and Sarah-Jane listened, grimly transfixed, as Mr Smith's screen flashed and flooded with information.

"Luke is most likely being held in a UNIT prison on the outskirts of London," Mr Smith said, providing a map location on screen. "It is the closest and largest in Britain, the second largest in the world, and holding some of the most deadly of inmates."

"Deadly in their eyes," Sarah-Jane muttered. "I wonder how many other poor souls they have in there."

"Hundreds," Mr Smith replied bluntly. "The prison itself spans for miles."

"How come no one knows about it then?" Rani asked, a spark of her curiosity somehow still living after all that had happened. "I mean, the public would notice if there was a massive guarded prison nearby full of aliens."

"The prison itself is underground," Mr Smith explained, showing a 3D plan of the building that rotated slowly on its axis to show the incredible size of it. Its structure seemed to Rani a bit like a spider's web of two levels-a number of tunnels stretched from the heart of the prison to other large areas, connected together by various other, smaller tunnels here and there with one other area above the center and a number of tunnels leading straight up to the surface, presumably as lift shafts or stairs. "The prison is split into different sections: Lower Level 2, which hosts Cell blocks A, B, and C, and Lower Level 1, which holds Laboratory one and two, and Investigative units three and four. It is connected to the surface through a series of lifts shafts."

"Investigative units? Laboratories?" Sarah-Jane queried. "I thought it was just a place to hold prisoners?"

"It was. But since it was taken over in the year 2007 by a Miss Monica Hartman-who was already in a position of great power within UNIT-it has undergone extensive changes. She is making attempts to revolutionise UNIT; she believes that although aliens are a dangerous threat their technology and knowledge should be utilised for the good of the human race. Hence the Investigative units and Laboratories."

"They're going to use him," Sarah-Jane said in a low voice, looking disgusted. "They'll try and use him to help them advance technology and make new weapons…"

"It is possible that they intend to use Luke for that purpose."

"He'll never help them, Sarah-Jane," Rani said in an attempt to comfort her. "He wouldn't. Not after all you've taught him."

"And if he doesn't?" Sarah-Jane asked. "What if he refuses?" Mr Smith was silent. "Well?"

"Luke is a genetically engineered being," Mr Smith said, and Rani got the sense of beating around the bush. "The 'perfect' human being, designed to be intelligent."

"And?" Rani asked for Sarah-Jane, who had gone still and seemed to be unable to speak.

"Humans have long been trying to perfect genetic enhancement, and Luke is proof that it can be successfully done. His biological information will be valuable to them."

A feeling of horrified numbness spread through Rani's body as she realised what that meant. Sarah-Jane didn't move, wearing an expression that Rani had never seen her use before.

She was hopeless.

"So that's his chances?" she asked. "Helping UNIT kill or being kept as some sort of living specimen?"

"If he is lucky," Mr Smith replied regretfully. Rani felt exhausted and saddened in the same instant-how much worse could it get?

"What do you mean?" Sarah-Jane asked. What little colour was left drained from her face as she studied the map more closely. "If those are the three cell blocks, and those are…then…" She pointed hesitantly at another, isolated building connected only by one tunnel, closer to the surface than the others. "What's that? You've not labelled it. It's the only one not labelled, why not?"

Rani knew what it was. She didn't want to hear Mr Smith as he said it out loud, didn't want him to say it. But Sarah-Jane had asked, and he had to obey.

"That's where they dispose of the bodies."

* * *

Confused.

That was the first-but familiar- thing Luke felt as he sluggishly regained consciousness, his head pounding and every muscle in his body aching. His thoughts were muddled and disorientated, but slowly pieces of his memory began to fall back into place. Terror gripped his heart like vice and his eyes snapped open. He was lying on the floor, and he pushed himself upright with difficulty, looking around.

The room was small, and seemed to be an exact cube. The walls were white and windowless, broken only by the single, hard metal door that seemed well set into the wall. It had no handle, only two small hatches (one roughly at eye-level, one at the bottom) that could only be opened from the outside. Out of the corner of his eye Luke saw a red light blinking, and he whipped around. A security camera was watching him from the top right corner of the room, its round, glass eye staring at him.

Where was he?

He became aware of a dull ache in his neck, and he instinctively put a hand to it, wincing as the slight pressure caused pain to flare up. They had sedated him. The last thing he remembered was fighting to get to Rani, and…

Maria. He got some re-assurance at the fact that she was in America, that she was safe. But what about Rani? What if they'd hurt her? Or worse?

He struggled to his feet, his legs barely strong enough to hold his weight. He fell against the wall, his head spinning. Whatever he had been sedated with, it had left him weak and vulnerable at the very time he needed to be strongest. Which, he supposed, was the plan. He drew on the last of his strength to stumble across the short distance to the door. He fell against it and strained his ears, but could hear no sounds from the other side.

"Hello?" He raised a fist and pounded against the door, the sound of the clanging metal echoing around the empty room. The last echo faded back into silence, and he tried again out of pure desperation. He was intelligent, and deep down he knew no one would come. But a part of him still thought someone out there might help him.

"Let me out!" he yelled. Nothing. An urgent fear leapt up inside him, and he hammered against the door more loudly and quickly. "LET ME OUT!"

Outside the door, no one heard. A long, weakly lit corridor stretched nearly as far as the eye could see, each wall lined with dozens of identical steel doors. The sound of Luke's fist slamming against the door repeatedly barely made it through the thick metal to the corridor, and after a while the slight sound stopped completely, and the corridor was once again filled only with silence and occasionally flickering light.

In a small surveillance room two UNIT officers sat watching the numerous grey coloured screens, their faces steeled and uncaring as they saw-not a boy-but the newest inmate collapse in cell thirty six after ten solid minutes of yelling fruitlessly for help. Through the camera they could see him pull his knees up against his chest, his face hidden as he shook with sobs that the officers couldn't hear and didn't care about.

Once again, he wasn't Luke Smith. To UNIT, he wasn't even human. He was nameless. Dangerous.

The Archetype.


	9. Taking Action

Rani felt bile rise and burn in her throat, and a glance to her right showed that Sarah-Jane had begun to shake slightly, her lips pressed tightly together-repressing a scream or a sob, Rani didn't know.

"What are we going to do?" Rani asked in a hushed voice. Sarah-Jane kept staring at the building plan on Mr Smith's screen, her eyes glazed over with terror. "_Sarah-Jane_?"

"I need to go there now," Sarah-Jane said suddenly, snapping out of her petrification. She darted past Rani for her coat, still trembling. "Mr Smith, give me a post code or a map or-"

"I must advise you to wait and calm yourself," Mr Smith interrupted. "Me sensors have picked up on heightened levels of adrenaline-"

"Of course they have, my son is being held by people who could kill him in an instant!" Sarah-Jane shouted, and Rani jumped slightly. "Give me the coordinates and print off a map of the prison! Now!"

"It is not that simple. The entrances to the prison are skilfully concealed and heavily guarded by armed officers. I will have to devise a route for you as well as a plan of action."

"I don't care about a plan!"

"I have calculated that your chances of survival and slim, less than-"

"I don't CARE!"

"If you are killed who will save him?" Mr Smith's question stopped her in her tracks. "Well?" he asked, sounding vaguely triumphant.

"I'll call people, Sir Alistair, some friends…" Sarah-Jane trailed off and glanced at Rani, who was watching her with her arms folded.

"And me and Clyde?" Rani asked. "Please, Sarah-Jane, we want to help."

"I already said no!" Sarah-Jane snapped, her patience breaking under the stress. "Especially now!" She gestured at the screen. "What sort of person would I be if I let you walk in there?"

"I want to! Luke matters to us too, just…please," Rani asked again, her voice quietly pleading. "I need to try." Sarah-Jane saw the desperation in her eyes, but also the determination. A determination she knew only too well.

And she knew how to break it, what she had to do. It would hurt Rani, but kill Sarah-Jane inside. She paused before she spoke. But she had to.

"…Oh, Rani," she snapped, turning so she wouldn't have to look her in the eye. "I don't want you here. I don't want your help and…and truth be told I don't think I ever want to see you again!"

"I…what?" Rani asked, sounding stunned at her sudden change towards her. "I don't understand, I can help-"

"Help?" Sarah-Jane made her voice sound sneering. "You think you can help?"

"Well…well yeah, I do all of this stuff, don't I?"

"Then why didn't you save him?" Sarah-Jane asked, making and effort for her voice to sound icy and unwavering, even though she could feel her heart tighten despairingly. "Luke? You were there, you were no good then, were you?"

"I really…I couldn't…I tried, I did, I…" Rani sounded close to tears, and Sarah-Jane kept staring at the wall with an agonised expression that she couldn't see.

"Not hard enough! I don't want to see you ever again! I don't want your help, and I'm betting Luke won't either after you stood there and watched UNIT take him!" she yelled, a tear escaping and tumbling down her cheek. She prayed it was enough. She should have known that life wasn't that kind.

"I…I didn't…I'm sorry, I…I…" Rani couldn't seem to say anymore. She wasn't leaving either. And Sarah-Jane knew she had to finish her brutal, cutting performance with one final push and stab Rani where she knew it would hurt most. She inconspicuously brushed away the tear, and turned to face Rani, who was standing frozen, her usually kind brown eyes wide and horrified. Sarah-Jane made her expression malicious, and felt an awful feeling of guilt and sadness grip her as she spat the words with as much spite as she could.

"_Maria would have saved him!"_

The expression of Rani's face was terrible to behold, and Sarah-Jane struggled keep her look of hatred until Rani had fled from the room. The moment she had gone, the front vanished.

"I'm sorry," Sarah-Jane whispered, before taking a long, shuddering breath and turning back to Mr Smith, asking for the coordinates, trying to keep Rani from her mind.

Sometimes you had to be cruel to save a life.

* * *

Rani tore across the road to her house, half-blinded by tears. When she reached her room she collapsed onto her bed and pulled a pillow close, feeling her heart being stretched and ripped apart painfully.

A sob broke out and she buried her face into the duvet, but soon she was shuddering and crying harder than she had ever done before. More than when she had moved for her dad's job, when she had wept in secret in the shower where her mum couldn't fuss and her dad couldn't scoff. Still more than when her Grandmother had died, and she had sobbed as the news was broken at two thirty in the morning.

Rani thought of Luke, alone and terrified, maybe even dead or about to be. She thought of Clyde, running from his feelings, unable to cope with a wound that couldn't be patched up with a joke. It was her fault. She had always stood in Maria's shadow, striving to live up to her predecessor or even exceed her. It was hard-Luke adored Maria, and the name always brought on either a bubbly mood or an infectious sadness depending on how long it had been since they'd spoken. Sarah-Jane…it was obvious she thought of Maria as the daughter she'd never had. She was so proud of her, and while she certainly liked her, Rani knew they would never be like that.

Clyde. Maria was his first friend here, and sometimes…sometimes Rani wondered if she had meant more to him than he had let on.

She couldn't just be herself. They all wanted her desperately to be Maria but she just wasn't. Maybe Maria would have saved Luke if she had been in Rani's position.

But Rani had failed. She'd failed them all.

* * *

Back in the attic, Sarah-Jane was pacing while Mr Smith worked at what he called 'maximum capacity'.

"My apologies, Sarah-Jane," was how he began when he finally spoke, and her heart dropped. "Sir Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart is reported to currently be in the US for a conference. I cannot reach him on his usual phone-line."

"Could you try again?"

"I could. However, I feel that the time could be used more productively than attempting to contact a man who cannot be reached," Mr Smith suggested in the annoyingly superior way that he had. Sarah-Jane nodded glumly. Who could she call? Torchwood? No-that was too risky. They were too much like UNIT for her liking. Then who…?

"Mr Smith," she began hesitantly, hardly daring to even hope. "Is it possible…do you think you could…could contact…"

"I have sufficient strength the reach the Doctor while he is within this universe," Mr Smith said and, despite her efforts, hope leapt inside her. "Provided his number remains as it was the last time I contacted him."

"Try please," Sarah-Jane instructed breathlessly. A string of numbers appeared on Mr Smith's screen and she waited, muttering prayers and hope to every God she knew of.

"Calling the Doctor," Mr Smith informed her, and she felt s surge of desperation and an almost crushing sense of need. If he couldn't save Luke, who could?

* * *

Millions of miles away a blue box drifted through the black and the stars, looking bizarrely out of place as it spun through space. Inside the cavernous interior with its metal woven floor and towering, twisting beams, the sudden, shrill sound of a mobile phone rang out, echoing around the room from where it had been left on the console. No one picked up.

The room was empty.

The phone rung and rung until-finally-it stopped. The crushing silence returned, until it started up again.

The Doctor was currently in another of the TARDIS' many rooms, bound tightly to a chair with a thick kind of rope woven by an alien metal, surrounded by what could only be described of as space pirates. How he got there was a long story to do with an almost parallel reality involving-you guessed it-alien pirates that had tricked him into letting them aboard the TARDIS. One pirate-an enormous, fat blue alien with a comically typical pirate's hat and eye-patch stopped and listened.

"A phone be ringin'," he deducted gruffly. The Doctor looked back at him deathly seriously.

"Arrrr it be," he growled in reply. The space pirate captain glowered at him.

"Are you mockin' me?" he boomed.

"Aye I is!" The Doctor replied cheerfully, grinning. This earned him a cuff over the head. "Argh! I mean, ow! Sorry, I was wrong. I shouldn't have mocked a speech impediment."

"Aye, you shouldn't 'ave!"

"Aye! I mean, yes. I apologise, really I do. Now…any chance of letting me go?"

"Not 'till you give us tha' boo'y!"

"I'm going to assume that what you meant to say was 'not until you give us that booty'. I'm sorry, you can't have my booty. Whichever kind you are referring to."

"We wants yer money!"

"An' I'm tellin' yeh I ain't got no money!"

The Doctor earned himself another blow to the head.

"We know you has the dosh, every ship 'as gold, now give us all yer got!" the captain yelled, losing what little patience he had. "An' yer 'ere ship!"

"Nope. Sorry."

"Wha'?"

"Oh, I'm sorry let me re-phrase that. Naarrr me-hearties me ship ain't for you's. You know, the TARDIS simply cannot translate pirate. Or Chav for that matter. It's simply too difficult."

"Stop yer babblin'!"

"Look, I really need you to untie me," the Doctor said, taking on a more serious tone. "That phone still be ringin', and I really should pick up. It might be important."

"You can 'ave yer phone when you've handed over yer ship and told us 'ow to use the controls!"

"That's not going to happen."

"Then we'll cut orff yer 'ere leg!"

"Ah…"

* * *

"I am sorry, Sarah-Jane. The Doctor cannot be contacted," Mr Smith informed her regretfully. She sighed.

"He's probably rushing about on some planet somewhere, or getting into all sorts of trouble," Sarah-Jane said with a weak, reminiscent smile that soon faltered. "I just wish that once, just once, he would come when I needed him. I need him now." Sarah-Jane's voice cracked, and she looked at the floor, allowing one tear to splash onto the floorboards before she sniffed and tossed her head up again. "But I'm on my own. I can't stay here any longer, I have to go to get him back."

"…it is your decision, Sarah-Jane." Mr Smith paused. "I would wish you luck, if I believed in such things."

"Oh," Sarah-Jane laughed and gave the computer a watery smile. "Always so cynical."

"That is correct."

"It is." Sarah-Jane grew serious as she picked her coat up off of the sofa arm. "Thank you, Mr Smith. Thank you for everything."

"It was my pleasure to serve you, Sarah-Jane."

"If Rani or Clyde come calling, tell them nothing. If…If I'm not back within forty-eight hours deactivate fully. No," Sarah-Jane said quickly, changing her mind. "If I'm not back in that amount of time wait for Rani and Clyde and give them a message. Tell Rani that she's clever and kind, and I never meant what I said, that I only said it to protect her. She'll know what I mean. Tell Clyde that he's brilliant, funny, and smarter than I ever told him or he gives himself credit for. Send a message to Maria telling her that I never forgot her, not for one moment. And tell them all that I cared for them more than anyone else in the whole universe. Please."

"I will."

"After you've told them deactivate fully, and never open again," Sarah-Jane said, her voice thick. "It wouldn't be safe." She turned away from and walked towards the door, before turning back. "Wait. One more thing."

She went over to the safe in the wall of the attic, unlocked it and opened the door, looking inside anxiously.

"K-9?" She smiled as she saw he was there, that they could speak, and glanced at Mr Smith. "Now don't tell me that's not lucky."

"Immensely," the computer replied sarcastically. Sarah-Jane tutted and turned back to the safe, smiling.

"Hello, K-9."

"Greetings, Mistress."

"I can't speak long, I…have to go," Sarah-Jane said. K-9's ear twisted back and forth as he thought.

"I sense you are sad, Mistress."

"Yes, I am," Sarah-Jane replied simply.

"Can I be of assistance in that respect?"

"No, sorry, K-9," Sarah-Jane said with a small, rueful smile. "But thank you. I just wanted to tell you that you mean a lot to me, you know that?"

"You have always given me maximum affection," K-9 replied, wagging his silver tail happily.

"Just remember that. I came to say goodbye. I might be back, but…but I might not. You're a good dog. Goodbye, K-9."

"Goodbye, mistress." With one last, sad smile, Sarah-Jane swung shut and locked the door to the safe. She then straightened up, gave the attic one last, fleeting look, before leaving the room to save her son, knowing that she would keep fighting for him until it killed her or she brought him home.

* * *

In her room, sitting on her bed hugging a pillow close while tears slid down her face, Rani heard a car engine start up and begin to growl outside. She rushed to the window and looked out at the street, seeing Sarah-Jane's small car pull out of the driveway. For a moment, she thought they might have caught sight of each other as Sarah-Jane looked up to Rani's window and Rani down at the car. But then the vehicle turned and drove away down the street, the golden light of the car's lamps disappearing and plunging Bannerman Road back into darkness.

* * *

On the other side of the Earth, it was now night. A recently departed plane was flying through the vast night sky, but as Maria rested her head against the window, her tears drying on her face, she could see no stars. Just black. The empty darkness.

After throwing together some money they had dashed to the airport, reaching it just in time to board the next plane. Every second that slipped away was a second wasted in the air-Maria could hardly bear it.

"He'll be OK," Alan said, breaking the solid silence of the last hour. "Sarah-Jane and the others, they'll help him. He…he'll probably be back by the time we actually get there," he said by way of a poor joke.

"You think so?" Maria asked without looking at him.

"I hope so," Alan said honestly, rubbing her arm. Maria blinked back more tears and took a deep breath.

"But he wasn't OK, it was awful…I should never have left," Maria said, fresh tears falling. "He wanted me to stay, and I should have done. I wish we hadn't gone." A fist tightened and constricted her heart and Alan pulled her into a hug, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I'll get them," Maria mumbled, realising how exhausted she was. "When I find them, when I save him, I'll get them. Sarah-Jane will too, and Clyde. UNIT won't get away with it."

Even filled with sadness and vengeance, Maria found her eyelids drooping, and she fell into an uneasy sleep wrapped in her father's arms.

* * *

By the time the sky had paled outside her bedroom window to a light grey streaked with orange and tinted with rose, Rani had fallen asleep. She was sleeping so heavily that she didn't hear the soft knock on her door and seven am.

"Rani, darling?" When she got no reply, Gita opened the door a crack. "Rani?" At the sight of her daughter sleeping curled up on top of her messy blankets, Gita walked over and sat on the bed, shaking her awake gently. Rani opened her eyes drowsily, confusion flickering across her tired features.

"…mum?"

"It's time for school, sweetie." Gita frowned at the disturbed blankets and the bruise-like circles imprinted under Rani's eyes. "Are you OK? Did you get hot, I did turn the heating up slightly."

"No, no…" Rani pushed herself up, then shook her head, sinking back down. "I can't go to school today. I just can't…"

"Are you sick?" Gita pressed the back of her hand to Rani's forehead and concentrated. "A tad hot, and you certainly look peaky. Alright, I'll tell your father. You go back to sleep." Gita patted her leg and stood, then left, looking back worriedly before quietly shutting the door behind her.

* * *

By the time Clyde eventually arrived home the weak winter sunshine had broken through the clouds, and a tightly packed layer of snow crunched underfoot as he walked to his front door. His cold-numbed fingers fumbled with the small metal key and he twisted it in the lock, opening the door with a small click. He pushed it open and walked in unsuspectingly, only to for someone to suddenly slam into him with enough force to knock him backwards.

"Clyde," his mum gasped in relief as she held him tight, sounding close to tears. "Where have you been? I got up and you were gone, don't ever do that to me again!"

"I'm sorry," Clyde said, mildly surprised at how monotonous his voice was. Carla released him, her brown eyes shiny. The relief slowly ebbed into anger.

"Where were you?" she demanded to know. Clyde said nothing. "Well?"

"Sarah-Jane's," Clyde answered truthfully. "Rani called me. Sarah-Jane's house was… burgled." Carla's hand flew to her mouth.

"Oh! That's awful," she said, looking deeply sympathetic. "Did they take anything important?"

"Yeah," Clyde said quietly. "Yeah, they did. I…I'm tired, I'm going to my room."

"Oh," Carla said in surprise, then called after him, "Make sure to give Sarah-Jane my sympathy next time you see her! And hurry up and get ready for school, or you'll be late!"

Clyde didn't reply, and barricaded himself in his room. The silence pressed against his ears, and he collapsed on his bed, his head clenched in his hands as he fought to maintain the front that he'd kept up for so long. He was the funny one who always managed to make light of even the most terrifying situation-he couldn't go to pieces now.

He couldn't, because his friends needed him. Even if he was miserable and scared, he had to push it down and handle it the best he could. Was he going to just give up on Luke and feel sorry for himself? That wasn't Clyde Langer, and he never wanted to see the day where it was.

He had to take action.

* * *

Once her mother and father had left for work, Rani got out of bed, having made an important decision. Yes, maybe Maria would have saved Luke, but would Maria have sat around crying? Rani didn't care. She just knew she wasn't going to.

Rani quickly cleaned her teeth, brushed out and tied up her hair, before hurriedly getting dressed and leaving the house, setting off for Clyde's house.

When she got there, she remembered it was a school morning. Would Clyde have gone to school? She doubted it. The idea of going was absurd to Rani, to just sit there in class and pretend everything was normal. It was the last week before the Christmas holidays anyway, she doubted they would be missing much.

As she passed a snow dusted hedge in his garden, she paused, sure she had heard something. A hissing…the wind? She shook her head, frowned, and went to move forwards.

"Psst!"

She nearly jumped out of her skin and whipped around to where the hedge was rustling, pieces of snow tumbling down from the disturbed leaves.

"Psst! Rani!" the hedge said. Rani stared at it.

"C…Clyde?"

"Nope, it's the hedge monster." Clyde peeped around the side of the hedge with an impish expression, grinning. Rani folded her arms.

"What are you doing hiding in there? What are you doing outside, it's freezing?"

"I'm waiting for mum to leave, I pretended to go off to school about ten minutes ago," he explained, and Rani noticed he was wearing a now slightly dirty white school shirt. His face grew serious as he added quietly, "I just couldn't stomach it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Rani said. "That's why I'm here, I think we should-"

"Get down!" Clyde reached out and grabbed the front of her jacket, pulling her down beside him.

"Clyde, what the _hell_ are you-" Rani's angry cry was cut short as Clyde covered her mouth with his hand, making tremendous gestures at his mother, who had just left the house and was climbing into her car. Once she had driven off, Clyde released Rani, looking sheepish.

"Sorry about that," he apologised, and Rani glowered at him.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Got it."

"Look, I was thinking, we've got to do something," Rani burst out, and Clyde listened quietly. "Sarah-Jane might not want us to help, but that's not going to stop us, right?" Rani waited anxiously, and Clyde's face broke into a smile.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. She said the same thing last time, you know."

"Last time?"

"Luke was kidnapped by this family of Slitheen, it's a long story. Anyway, Sarah-Jane went a bit weird and basically kicked me and Maria out of her life. But we just went ahead and ignored her and everything turned out OK," Clyde said casually. Rani felt a pang on pain at the name Maria, but made an effort to ignore it.

"Really?" she asked. Clyde's smiled slipped a little.

"Well…ish."

"Ish?" Rani repeated, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

"I kind of got imprisoned by Mr Smith, who nearly shot Sarah-Jane and Luke nearly squashed us all with the moon. But the point is, we saved him and the world just in time."

"Fabulous."

"Exactly." Clyde jumped up, pulling a leaf out of his hair and brushing himself down. "And if we could get him back once, we'll do it again. I just don't know where to start."

"I saw Sarah-Jane leave the house," Rani said. "We could get Mr Smith to tell us about UNIT. I already know a bit, I'll tell you on the way."

"OK, c'mon then." They started walking down the road, and-noticing Rani's brave shield fracture occasionally, Clyde nearly took her hand.

Nearly.


	10. Questions

**I would have posted sooner and written a longer chapter, but I've been busy with beta work and now have earache that's driving me mad. But I didn't want to leave an update any longer.**

**Thanks for reviewing the last chapter, I love hearing from you! There will be more action in the following chapters, as this is the final chapter that serves to push the story ahead to the interesting bits XD**

**Oh, and I'm not sure which part I'm going to write next. So if you want to mention whether you most want to hear about Sarah-Jane, Clyde and Rani or Luke in the next chapter in a review, it would be helpeful :)**

* * *

Hysterical, piercing screams rung through the plane, waking any of the dozing passengers with a start.

"Maria! Maria!" Alan held his daughter still as she flailed around, screaming non-stop. Her shrill cries became choking sounds as she shouted the air from her lungs, and her eyes snapped open, filled with terror and shining with tears.

"Oh God…no…" Maria, seeming to become fully awake, shakily looked around the plane to see everyone staring at her, some in irritation and some in sympathy. "Sorry…I…sorry." She took sharp, gasping breaths and sunk down into her seat, her head in her hands.

"…Nightmare?" Alan asked quietly after a pause. With her face still covered and sniffing sounds coming from behind her trembling hands, Maria nodded.

"It was horrible," she said hoarsely, raising her head and staring forwards, as though seeing the nightmare play out again before her eyes. "They were going to kill him, and I was running but…but I was too far away and I couldn't get there in time and…" On the verge of breaking down, Maria brought her hands to her face again.

"It wasn't real," Alan reminded her, stroking her hair. "It was just a nightmare."

"But it might not be," she whispered, looking haggard and worn as she looked up at him again. "Luke might be dead right now-"

"But he might be alive," Alan interrupted sharply. "Think about it. They took him alive-they wanted him alive, not dead. At least for a while."

"Why, though?" Maria asked, an icy chill creeping over her. "What for?"

Alan didn't answer, his silence saying all that he didn't want to say.

* * *

There could be no sense of time inside the cell. Luke found himself counting the seconds, the string numbers going up and up in his head-two digits, three, four…

The tedious task became maddening, and even as he tried to think of other things the numbers kept on counting in the back of his mind independently. He wondered if it were possible to go mad in such a short space of time.

He was sat in the furthest corner of the room, his legs pulled up to his chest and his head resting against the hard wall. The silence started to press against his ears, and he deliberately scuffed his shoe on the ground just to hear some kind of sound to break into his isolation.

With no other distractions he couldn't help but turn his thoughts to the people he loved; he was confined, most likely somewhere awful, but what had happened to them?

Sarah-Jane had gone to that warehouse-a trap, he was sure of it. He should have realised sooner, or gone with her. Then there was Rani. The last time he saw her she was lying limp on the floor, while Maria screamed…

In the quiet he could still hear it.

He had been caught by UNIT. He was alone and afraid, but also felt ashamed. Sarah-Jane had never wanted that to happen, and it had. He should have done something more, stopped UNIT from entering her attic, her home, which meant so much to Sarah-Jane. Luke felt guiltily like he had let her down. And he should have done more to help Rani, who had rushed to his rescue only to be viciously attacked and hurt. Clyde would be devastated if she was seriously injured…

Maria was in America, safe. But for how long? She hadn't been supposed to see that, there were bound to be UNIT bases in America. How long would it take for them to reach Maria, and…what?

Now he knew why Sarah-Jane feared UNIT. She had never been afraid for herself, but for the others. Once UNIT targeted someone every single person they were linked to were in danger. While he was sat in a cell, already lost, they were facing problems of their own. Maybe UNIT would spare them-they knew of Sarah-Jane, after all-but Luke knew it was unlikely that Sarah-Jane would leave it. She would try to fight them, but she _couldn't_. It was out of her hands, and if any of them tried to put themselves in the line of fire for him he'd rather die.

Sarah-Jane had sheltered him, but this was it. Game over, as Clyde would say whenever he was busted whilst doing something secretively, whether it be stealing back his iPod from the Headmaster's office or thwarting an alien. Luke could only hope now that they'd stay away.

His head snapped up as there was a clunking sound from behind the door. There was a series of beeps followed by low whirr, and the door opened, more and brighter light flooding the tiny room, causing Luke's to squint. Three figures stood in the doorway, and as his eyes adjusted he saw them clearly. Two hard-eyed, emotionless soldiers flanked the woman in the middle, both holding guns tightly in front of them. The woman herself was tall, and had a glossy, sharp black bob framing her pale face. She didn't seem to be dressed in uniform, and wore a straight black pencil skirt and crisp matching blazer that clung to her slim figure, the outfit ending with tall heels. She could have worked in an office were it not for the small gun Luke could see poking out of her pocket-her overall appearance was glamorously deadly.

"Welcome," she said in a cool voice with a hint of sarcasm, her brown eyes glinting. "Luke Smith."

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, struggling to get up. The two guns were immediately locked onto him in a series of clicks and he froze, but the woman pushed them down.

"At ease," she said calmly, her eyes flickering over Luke, taking in how he was using the wall for support. "He's in no position to harm anyone."

"Why am I here?" Luke asked, making an effort to stand up straight and look her in the eyes. She smiled a smile that looked warm, but seemed to have taint that said something else.

"My name is Monica Hartman," she said. "You are our prisoner. UNIT, being the blundering fools with weapons they have always been, wanted to kill you. But I told them not to." The two officers beside her didn't look happy, and Luke, despite his situation, was intrigued. This woman seemed to have low opinions of UNITs work, yet somehow seemed to be in a position of great power.

"Why not kill me?"

"You can be useful. And I suggest very strongly that you cooperate," she added in a low, threatening voice. "Or it will be bang bang, bye bye for you. Understand?"

"I understand," he said, fighting to keep the fear from his eyes as she looked directly at him. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Good," she said after a few moments, breaking the uncomfortably direct eye contact. "You will come with me." She nodded at the two officers and they moved to stand beside Luke, and he stiffened as he felt the end of gun prod the small of his back.

"Where?" he mustered up the courage to ask. She turned, looking a little surprised at his boldness, then smirked.

"I thought I'd give you a little…tour, as such. Show you around."

"Why?" he asked coldly, sure there was a reason behind it. Every instinct he had told him not to trust this woman. She raised her perfectly arched eyebrows, any hint of a smile gone.

"Too many questions. There's a fine line between curiosity and prying into matters that don't concern you, and I advise you not to cross it." She turned and began to walk, and he felt the gun nudge him threateningly to prompt him to move. With no other choice, he allowed himself to be marched from the cell that he had despised less than ten minutes ago but would give almost anything to be back in now. He had no idea why he was being taken from his cell, but whether it was a trick or something worse, he was sure of one thing. Hartman was wrong.

It concerned him very much indeed.


	11. The Good and the Bad

**Hi :) I would have updated sooner, but my laptop broke and I lost everything so had to completely re-write this chapter. The next chapter will be mostly Clyde and Rani, and someone else ;)**

* * *

Luke had no choice but to follow Hartman, very aware of the gun still pressed against his back-the slightest pressure on the trigger and his life would be over as suddenly and violently as it had begun.

Hartman swanned on ahead confidently, her polished heels clacking against the floor, the sound rebounding from the walls in the silence. Occasionally, she glanced over her shoulder, gave him an oddly smug looking smile then turned to face front again.

Luke's eyes flickered to the sides, taking the identical rows of shining steel doors that lined the walls, each with large black numbers printed on the front. There seemed to be no handles on any of them, only a small device set to the right hand side with a small slit like that which you would swipe a credit card through.

_That must be some kind of lock system, _he thought, his mind already reeling to find some way to overcome it.

His suspicions were confirmed when they reached the end of the corridor and Hartman came to a sudden halt. There were two doors like those he had already seen, except they had letters as well as numbers printed on the front-the one leading right read 'L1&L2' and the one leading forwards was imprinted with 'CB3'. Beside them both was the rectangular device Luke had seen before, except the one they were standing directly before sported a tiny, flashing red light and a small screen that read **'LEVEL ONE ACCESS ONLY'** in blinking bold letters.

Hartman reached to her neck and pulled up a long golden chain from beneath her blazer, revealing an ID card clipped to the end. She tugged it off the chain and swiped it quickly through the device beside the door labelled 'CB3', and Luke had just enough time to see the words 'Monica J. Hartman' written on the card along with a small picture before she clipped it back onto the chain with a snap and stuffed it back down her blazer hurriedly. After a moment's hesitation the device's light by the door changed from winking with red to green light, and there was a series of approving little beeps.

"Entrance granted," a cool voice said. Hartman smiled, satisfied, as the door opened without her touch after a few metallic grinding sounds.

"Come," she said simply with an airy wave of her hand. The soldier behind Luke nudged him onwards with the gun and he followed her obediently down the next corridor. This one was shorter and a little more dimly lit. The same doors were on either side of him-he wondered how many cells this place held, how many lives were held imprisoned behind similar doors. And how many wrongfully so.

Without warning Hartman stepped to the left and stopped in front of a door labelled as '201'. She ran her card through the machine beside the door, then wordlessly held out her hand. One of the soldiers beside Luke stepped forwards and handed her his own ID card, which she slid through the gap.

"Why do you need more than one card this time?" Luke couldn't help but blurt out the question despite the warning arm grip from one of the soldiers. Hartman smirked as she handed the soldier back his card and the device bleeped and flashed, throwing a throbbing light onto her cruelly smirking face.

"Because it's _dangerous_," she said darkly, and before he could say anything else the door opened and a terrible, earthshattering roar ripped through and shattered the stillness of the air, flooding the corridor with the sound. He took an instinctive and frightened step backwards, but the soldiers shoved him roughly forwards and he stumbled through the cell doorway after Hartman, who had walked in with ease.

A wall of metal bars split the cell in half, forming a barrier between them and the creature on the other side. The thing itself had the repulsive appearance of enormous, hairless wolf, its raw pink skin laced with scars and scabbed red gashes. Its eyes were large black orbs bulging from its elongated face and contained the terrifyingly cold, unnerving emptiness of a shark's. But the most noticeable feature was its long, sharply glistening fangs that were bared as it roared. The heavy metal chains around its legs and neck clanged and jangled as it threw itself towards the bars, snarling viciously in the face of Hartman, who waggled her fingers at it mockingly. The creature's overall appearance as it dropped back down to all fours and sank to its haunches, snarling, was awful, repulsive, terrifying…and sad.

"Thoughts?" Hartman asked, turning to him.

"…what is it?" he managed to say, his voice barely more than a whisper. He didn't look at her as she replied, unable to wrench his eyes from the creature as it writhed and growled, the chains binding it still rustling and clanging against the concrete floor strewn with its own filth.

"We don't know," she replied with a shrug, tilting her head as she looked it over, seemingly taking pleasure in its suffering. "We captured it after being alerted to a series of rather gruesome murders occurring in a country village in the south of England. Bodies found ripped and missing limbs, as though mauled by an animal. We investigated, and found this beast hiding in the woods. Along with the body of a girl it had slaughtered." She gave him a sideways glance, her expression serious. "UNIT aren't the monsters you think we are. We serve to protect-the human race comes first, that's all."

"Why not just kill it?" Luke asked, the words twisting his windpipe on the way out so they emerged as a croak. Death was better than this miserable existence. "Just to watch it suffer?"

"Honestly, what sort of a person do you take me for?" she laughed, her smile slipping as he remained stony faced. "Anyway, that would be impractical. We're thinking of training it as a kind of guard dog, used to hunt for us. Like the kind on a police force." She turned her back on the alien completely, her eyes shining. "That's my new plan. Under my command, I can revolutionise UNIT. Instead of just destroying, we can use the alien things we find for our own gain, and bring the human race forwards, into a new age. If it's unusual, we destroy it, of course. If it is, we keep it."

And then Luke understood. He was to be kept, because he was useful. The thing that concerned him was how.

"Come," Hartman said, with one last, fleeting glance at the creature as it now whimpered pathetically in its prison. "There's more to show you." She left the cell, and as Luke followed the door began to close.

But it didn't seal fast enough to block out the long, piercing howl that began to ring out as nothing short of a desperate cry for help, before it was cut off by inches of steel, locking it once more into loneliness and a living hell.

Did it not deserve to be treated humanely, even if it wasn't human?

* * *

Sarah-Jane hurtled down the road, her tiny car racing along the tarmac, her tires screaming at every sharp turn as she followed the map Mr Smith had given her. Houses and trees and cyclists whizzed by the windows in a blur of colour, and she knew she was way over the speed limit.

But she didn't care.

The UNIT prison was further than she had anticipated, right on the outskirts of London, and after an hour she was forced to slow as a line of cars began to form. She sat impatiently, her foot resting on the accelerator as the still running car rumbled beneath her, waiting to be let loose on the road once more. The infuriating line of traffic didn't move, and she could see someone stick their head out of the window of the car in front, craning their necks to see the hold up. Sarah-Jane frowned and looked out of the slightly misted window-she was in the middle of nowhere. Empty fields and patches of forest stretched as far as the eye could see. To have made a line this long here must have taken some time.

Unable to bear the waiting any longer, she unbuckled her seat belt, threw open the door and stepped outside, slamming the door behind her with the engine still running. The icy weather hit her like a smack in the face, and she tugged her thin coat around her tightly before sprinting past the line of cars towards the source of the trouble, as per usual.

She saw the flashing blue lights first, illuminating the flakes of pure white snow falling gracefully and ironically on the scene.

Police cars and ambulances were parked in a semi-circle on the patch of road streaked with black lines where the car had lost control. Beside a still standing and solid tree, the bonnet and roof of the silver car had been crumpled in on itself like paper, shattered glass littering the ground around it, sparkling like deathly diamonds amongst the spattering of snow. The doors that were still intact were wide open, and Sarah-Jane was relieved to see a shell-shocked, slightly bruised but otherwise OK young woman sitting by an ambulance, clutching a red blanket around herself while she shivered and cried hysterically. Sarah-Jane's eyes swivelled to the nearest police car, and what she saw enraged her.

A boy-only a few years older than her own son, by the looks of it-was standing with his hands in his slacking jeans' pockets, having escaped the accident with only a cut across the forehead. His stance was cocky, and a smirk played at his lips as the police officer approached him seriously.

"Have you been drinking?" Sarah-Jane heard him ask, even from a distance. In response, the boy-for that's what he was-shrugged and sniggered. "I have to ask that you take a breathalyser test."

Fury bubbled inside Sarah-Jane. Luke needed her, every moment without him safe caused her near unendurable agony, and this stupid, reckless, arrogant boy had obviously driven drunk, showing off to the girl, and crashed. He was holding her back from saving her son's life, because he decided to gamble with his own.

She began to approach them, when a police officer came out of nowhere, blocking her way.

"I'm sorry, I can't let you through," he said firmly, his arms outstretched. She felt a stab of annoyance.

"Look, I have to be somewhere-"

"We're doing everything we can to get you moving again, I can assure you," he interrupted with the slightly bored tone of someone who said the same thing often, then gestured behind her at the line of cars. "If you could return to your vehicle it would make things a whole lot smoother-"

He was drowned out at a yell from behind him-the boy was making a run for it, charging away from the policeman towards the trees. Something inside Sarah-Jane snapped, and a rush of feelings were released-the vengeance of a mother, hatred for people that risked other peoples' lives and the schooling of the Doctor all rolled into one.

Before she knew it she was dashing after him, the police officers shouting for her to come back. She was faster than them, having had practice, and sharp and experienced enough to second guess the frantic boy's moves. Her adrenaline spiked blood and fury pushed her forwards and as he faltered she slammed into him, forcing him to the ground.

"Geddoff me!" he slurred, struggling. She shoved his head down, a cold hatred seeping through her that she'd never felt before.

"No," she snarled in his face. "You're keeping me from my son."

"What?" he asked with a short but anxious laugh. "You're mental, you are!"

"And you're-what's the word? Nicked." She released him roughly as the police officers grabbed and hauled him up, tugging his hands behind his back and snapping on a pair of handcuffs. Before the two police officers could even turn to her, she was running back to her car, her legs pounding against the ground as hard as she could.

She reached her car in the line of coloured vehicles and fumes spiralling into the air, threw open the door and slid into the front seat, gripping the steering wheel tightly, her breathes coming in gasps. She wasn't proud of what she was about to do, but this line wasn't moving, and she had to get to Luke. She knew she was going to go from hero to villain in a split second, but if the Doctor had taught her anything it was that sometimes rules needed to be broken.

She checked there was still a suitable gap behind her, and without giving herself a chance to consider the consequences, she braced herself, re-started the car and both reversed and spun the wheel to the left.

The tiny car spun in a semi-circle in the small space, the tires squealing in protest as she slammed her foot down and sped towards the stretch of open field. The car lurched and juddered as she hit the uneven ground, and she struggled to control the vehicle but stubbornly refused to slow down as the grip of the tires churned up mud and grass.

Jumping about on the passenger seat beside her, her phone began to ring, the screen lighting up-**'Clyde Calling'**.

"Not now Clyde!" she groaned as the phone continued to demand attention while distant police sirens could be heard starting up from the departed road behind her. She turned sharply to avoid a cluster of birds pecking at seeds that flew up, squawking and flapping their wings in panic as the left wheels of her car smacked back to the ground, dirt spraying upwards as she urged onwards. Blue strobe-like lights started to become visible while the sirens still wailed shrilly, and there was a beep as the call went to voice message:

'Um, hi, Sarah-Jane, it's Clyde. I don't know if you're busy or just ignoring us, but I'm with Rani and we aren't about to just give up on you, I'm sorry I stormed out like that but-"

Clyde's voice was abruptly cut off as Sarah-Jane suddenly changed direction, determined to lose the trailing police cars, and the phone clattered to the floor.

The police cars behind her were gaining on her, and she hoped her gamble to reach Luke in more time was going to pay off…

* * *

It might have been his imagination, but Hartman seemed to be walking more swiftly than she was before.

They were back in the chilling familiarity of the first corridor, but had long since passed by Luke's own cell. The threat of the guns ever constant, Luke found the fear of death fading and the courage to speak up.

"Where are we going?" he asked boldly.

"You'll see," Hartman said without turning around. They lapsed back into silence, and Luke felt a growing sense of unease as they approached the door at the end of the corridor. Unlike the other corridor there was just one door, one option. It was clearly a cell, and was printed with only one large number-'1'.

When they reached it, Hartman hesitated for a fraction of a second before using her card to open the door, swiping it through slowly this time as though she were savouring the moment. There was a series of clunking sounds, before the heavy door opened. She faced Luke, and he saw something in her eyes that-despite what she'd done to him, despite her work-he hadn't seen in her before. But he had in a few others he had seen. It was something dark, something beyond the boundaries of hatred. It was evil.

_But,_ he thought, his usual interest emerging, _she wasn't evil before. Evil depending on circumstance?_

It seemed strange. If he was right, it only made him further afraid to see what was behind that door. Not wishing to be pushed inside by force, he walked inside as she did, preparing himself for the content of the room.

Inside, the room was largely empty except for a small machine hooked up to a figure that was mounted on the wall by steel cabals and wrist and ankle cuffs. The figure was almost human in appearance, but with a skin of metal and black holes for eyes set into the expressionless silver face.

"A robot," Luke breathed. Hartman smiled ruefully.

"Not quite. It was human…once." She stepped forwards until she was almost face to face with it, and looked it over. "It's called a Cyberman. I suppose you don't recognise it. You probably weren't even alive when they came."

"When what came?" he asked, choosing to ignore the evident disgust and disapproval in her last comment.

"The ghosts. Miraculous Torchwood, brought back the dead," she laughed, coldly, and Luke frowned, confused.

"You can't bring back the dead," he said, feeling unsettled at the idea. "Ghosts don't exist."

"Oh, these certainly didn't. Have you heard of Torchwood?"

"Mum mentioned them once."

"They were like UNIT. Only they considered themselves to be better than us, to be moving us into a new age-'the British Empire'." Hartman sneered at the idea. "But they were all talk, too arrogant for their own good. They were used."

"Used?"

"The ghosts weren't ghosts. They were these." She indicated the steel creature in front of them with a wave of a jewel ringed hand. "Cybermen, metal monsters that Torchwood allowed to flood the Earth because they couldn't resist showing off. They deleted-murdered-so many, and created new Cybermen from the people." Hartman turned to face Luke, smiling and smug, looking to be bursting with joy. "I told you they were once human. The staff of brilliant Torchwood-tricked and changed into their enemies."

"How?" Luke dared to ask, feeling a growing sense of foreboding.

"To create a Cybermen, you destroy all that is human in a person. They take only the brain, and put it in a metal suit over amour. Emotions are lost, halted by an Emotional Inhibiter. They follow the same simple commands-delete and upgrade."

After a pause, Luke looked up at the blankly staring creature-the one time person-and felt sick. "I would rather be dead."

"In a way, they already are," she said, then continued more loudly, "The Cybermen suddenly vanished. Nobody really knows how or why…but we have an idea."

"Which is?"

"Classified," she said with a sugary sweet smile. "Of course, it wasn't just Cybermen. There were Daleks too. I take it you know of them?" she added, noticing as Luke's face paled and he repressed an involuntary shiver.

"Yes," he said quietly, then confusion crossed his expression. "But how did they get rid of them?"

"Again," she said, "We have an idea."

"I don't understand," he said, his patience wavering and unease creeping up on him gently but thickly like snow in the night, ice trickling into his veins. "You showed me this but won't tell me anything. You say I'm dangerous, but you've kept me alive. What do you want?" he asked, his voice hard with hostility. But she didn't look annoyed or angry. She laughed.

"Dropping the scared little boy act, are we?" she asked with a jeer.

"I don't like being messed with."

"Neither does UNIT, and your mummy messed with us by hiding you. Any more trouble and it might go back to her, so I strongly advise you to _button it_." Her voice became threatening, and her face was shadowy as her eyes met his. "Are we clear?" He held her gaze, then nodded slowly.

"Yes." He was clear. It wasn't just his life on the line, and that only tightened UNIT's hold over him, and Hartman knew it.

"Good." She walked over to the machine nearby that was covered in dials and buttons and readings on a screen showing a thin line that looked to Luke as though it would measure sound frequency. Carefully and deliberately, she rested one hand on a lever.

"I told you the Cybermen disappeared," she said in a low voice, her fixated eyes never leaving the lever she was gripping. "But not all of them did. Some remained. Torchwood burned, and those Cybermen we salvaged were destroyed. However, I kept one. But it's broken."

Luke studied it. Its shining silver coating was scratched in places and black smudges of oil and soot were here and there, but nothing seemed to have penetrated it. It seemed completely intact and mostly undamaged. "It doesn't look damaged."

"On the outside," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I told you the emotions of Cybermen are held back, but not this one's. Something must have gone wrong, the part that inhibits emotions won't function. The technology is beyond us, we cannot fix it. Do you know what this machine is for?" she asked suddenly, and fear reared within him as her hold on the lever tightened and the soldiers beside him moved closer. He shook his head, his voice having deserted him as his heart began to pound in anticipation.

"Not even a guess?" she asked, feigning disappointment, before one side of her impeccably painted lips twisted upwards. "It stops the sound the Cyberman makes. You see, there are two reasons for the inhibiter. One-there are no emotions or opinions or beliefs to prevent them from carrying out their purpose. Two-if they could see what they were, what had happened to them…they would go insane. This one," she said, her voice lowering into a darkly gleeful tone as she turned her head to look at the Cyberman, "_Screams_."

Before he could brace himself she yanked down the lever, and the most horrific sound filled the room, penetrating Luke's ears and mind like a knife slicing through him. It was shrill and on the border of being too high a frequency to hear, and sounded faintly robotic, like a scream warped and twisted through a poorly functioning microphone. It was too high and loud a scream to be human, but burning with too much anguish and despair to be a machine.

His head throbbed and he clamped his hands over his ears as the noise became unbearable, squeezing his eyes closed as if that would make the terrible sound and reality go away. He stumbled backwards, but was quickly held by the two men. He opened his eyes, watering with tears and pain and looked up and Hartman, who was standing tall and seemingly unfazed by the screaming but indifferent looking Cyberman, her hand resting on its chest while she stared up at its expressionless face.

"Turn it off!" Luke shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the sound and the ringing in his ears. "Stop it!" Whether she heard him or not she didn't move, and as the scream started to seem louder Luke struggled and manage to tug himself from the soldiers' grasp, possibly because they too were feeling the effect, and he ran forwards to the machine and pushed up the lever so quickly and forcefully that a shower of sparks flew before the sound abruptly cut off with a hiss.

"Tragic, isn't it?" Hartman commented to him, her voice oddly muffled to him and mingled with a ringing sound. He shook his head, his hands resting on the machine as he leant against it, feeling like the air had been snatched from his lungs.

"But it's still screaming," he managed to say shakily, and wasn't surprised to feel the wetness of a tear on his face. He stood up straight and whirled to face her furiously. "How could you do that? How can you stand it?"

"It was not UNIT's doing," she said.

"But you keep it here, you're torturing it!" he yelled, and had to look away from her superior looking face, overwhelmed with disgust.

"So help us," she said calmly. He kept her back to her so she didn't see his confused suspicion.

"What?"

"You're clever. We know that-that's why we've allowed you to live." The way she said it was as though she had given him some kind of gracious gift. "You could fix this Cyberman, couldn't you? And you could help us with other things, other projects, help us create weapons and learn." She was clearly waiting for his reaction, but he didn't say anything. "Of course, there would be other privileges."

"Could I go home?" he had to ask, a sliver of guilty hope breaking through the barrier of his conscience.

"No, that's not possible, I'm afraid. You're still considered a danger," she said, and his hope vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "But you could be given better living space. Sarah-Jane, she could visit you."

"I'd have to stay here until I die," he said bitterly. "I'd still be a prisoner."

"We'd make you as comfortable as you could wish, I assure you."

The temptation was strong. He could see Sarah-Jane again…but he knew it wasn't the right thing to do. He remembered classing things as either good or bad, and although situations changed and things seemed complicated, it wasn't really. It was painfully clear to him that her offer shouldn't be taken, would be bad. He just had to choose between what he wanted for himself and what he should do for the people-alien or not-who's lives he would be helping to destroy. Sarah-Jane had saved him. She had taught him what was right and what was wrong, and he knew what she would say.

"No."

"…I'm sorry?"

"No," he repeated, facing her, trembling but holding his ground. "I won't help you."

"I am giving you a chance," she said coolly, her voice level but her annoyance etched into her features. "You only get one. You'd be stupid to turn it down."

"You took me from my home," he said, his heart heavy with a despair that would break him if not for his secure knowledge that what he was doing was right. "Because you thought I was a threat, that I would hurt people. I never would, not on purpose. I'm not a monster. And I won't let you turn me into one." He stared at her hatefully, and she released a long breath with her eyes full of fire, looking for a moment as though she wanted to tear him apart.

"You're a foolish boy," she snapped. "You just threw away your last chance at life."

"Not one worth living," he said simply.

"I'll give you twenty-four hours to reconsider," she said tightly, and he smiled a thin smile.

"I'm that valuable to you?"

"Get him out of my sight," she instructed the soldiers snappishly, ignoring his comment. "Put the miserable thing back in his cell."

Luke allowed himself to be marched back into the corridor, his head held high while he kept his sadness and fear under control, pushing it down as he reminded himself over and over that it was right, it was what Sarah-Jane would want…

"You will change your mind," Hartman called from a little way down the corridor behind him as he reached his cell. "You'll help us, Luke Smith."

Then he was placed and locked once again into his empty cell, and left with a silent stretch of twenty-four hours to reconsider or seal his death sentence. He wouldn't relent. He had been used more than once for destruction, but he wasn't a killer. He wouldn't work for UNIT and do what they asked.

He wasn't going to be a weapon.

* * *

**(My reasoning for the fact that some Cybermen escaped the void is that those newly created were not coated in-to use the scientific name-'Void stuff' so were not sucked through. This may not truly have meant to be the case, but that's how I'm telling it!)**


	12. Reunion

**I hope you all had a great Christmas, I had meant to update around that time but so much got in the way. But I'm updating now, so here's a slightly late Christmas present! I've already written most of the next chapter, so hopefully-but I'm not promising anything-I'll be able to update on New Years Eve.**

**Of course this story is still set around Christmas, so it's kind of extended (my original end goal for this story was Christmas, and I'm not even halfway through!). **

**Reviews will be appreciated :)**

* * *

"She didn't answer," Clyde said simply, shoving his phone back in his jeans pocket. "I didn't really expect her to anyway." They were walking across the road to Sarah-Jane's, and Rani turned to Clyde, worry in her eyes.

"I hope she's OK."

"So do I," Clyde sighed. His usual joking exterior had momentarily vanished, and Rani saw the true, raw hurt that he was feeling before he suddenly bounded ahead of her to Sarah-Jane's house like an eager puppy. A puppy steeped in denial of its own feelings, that is.

"She'll need to fix this," he commented, looking down at the remains of the door on the ground, then at the gaping hole of a doorframe that exposed the usually closely guarded home. "Anyone could walk in. Which," he added with a familiar cheeky grin, "is good for us." He carefully stepped over the shards of wood and glass into the hallway, Rani following him inside. She felt reluctant for some reason, and for a moment couldn't place why. It wasn't the idea of going inside without permission; it was for the right reasons.

As they both started to walk up the stairs, their footsteps clunking and echoing and Clyde too having fallen into a grim silence, Rani realised. It felt so wrong without Sarah-Jane and Luke. The house had lost the buzz of excitement Rani associated with it, and the comforting but mysterious atmosphere. It was just…empty. Like a ghost house.

Stepping back onto the dark wooden and slightly dusty floor of the actual attic brought a lump to Rani's throat, Sarah-Jane's words re-playing over and over in her mind, and the image of Luke being hit and held by soldiers with guns while she was pressed against a wall, helpless and terrified. She didn't know if she'd ever be able to stand in the room again without shivering.

She stopped dead in the middle of the room and, although he must have noticed her sudden halt, Clyde marched forwards purposely until he stood before Mr Smith, looking over the wall as though sizing it up like a boxer would an opponent before a fight. Watching him, Rani knew he was expecting some resistance-maybe was even hoping for it-from the notoriously irritating computer.

"Mr Smith, I need you," he said, slightly more loudly and commanding than he would have normally spoken. The computer emerged, and Rani stepped up behind Clyde.

"Oh. Clyde, Rani," Mr Smith said with a snide kind of surprise. "I must say I am surprised to see you here when Sarah-Jane isn't home to invite you in."

"What you going to do, call the police or something?" Clyde asked scathingly.

"It would be within reason to do so."

"Just let it go, Clyde," Rani advised as his eyes narrowed dangerously. She moved in front of him to face Mr Smith. "We need your help."

"With what, may I ask?"

"Baking cupcakes," Clyde jumped in sarcastically, seemingly unable to help himself. "What do you think?"

"If you do indeed wish for my help you would be wise to use your time asking for it instead of being overly confrontational," Mr Smith said dryly. "However, it is understandable. You are currently overly emotional due to recent events."

"I'm not overly emotional!" Clyde snapped, before Rani shot him a look that she often saw her mother use. He looked to the floor, looking slightly ashamed and embarrassed, but still clearly fuming.

"Please," Rani said with all the politeness she could muster while Clyde muttered swear words under his breath along with more personally geared insults such as 'stupid pile of junk, go back to PC World...', "could you tell us where Sarah-Jane went, and how to get there?"

"I am sorry. I have been instructed not to disclose any of that said information."

"What?" Clyde raged as Rani looked crestfallen, his fury flaring at the computer flaring up again. "Why?"

"Why do you think?"

"Don't get all smart-ass with me you stupid-"

"Clyde!" Rani snapped at him, her stress levels mounting with the feeling of boiling lava rising inside her. "Stop it! Mr Smith, please just tell us, it's important."

"I'm sorry, I cannot go against Sarah-Jane's orders," he said regretfully.

"She must have gone to get Luke from that prison," Rani said, sounding both thoughtful and worried. Clyde frowned at her.

"You know where he is?" he asked with a hint of anger. "You kept that quiet!"

"I don't know exactly where it is, only that it's on the outskirts of London," she corrected him, stung by the way he was looking at her. "The actual prison could be anywhere in that area."

"You were here with Sarah-Jane, you must have picked up on something!" he said desperately. Rani understood that he wanted something to go on, she did too, but found it unfair that she was supposed to have all the answers.

"No, she…" Rani paused as painful memories surfaced, before continuing quietly, "she kicked me out. "

"What about when UNIT took Luke," Clyde pushed on, stubbornly refusing to give up, "did they say anything?"

"I don't think so, I don't know, they were holding me and then they knocked me out, I didn't hear anything about where they were going!"

Rani watched as Clyde let out a sound of exasperation, half-way between a sigh and groan, and, finally, it all became too much for even her. Angry, hurt tears sprung to her eyes. "I suppose I didn't do a good enough job? That I should have taken on all of those UNIT soldiers and stopped them? I would have but I couldn't, I couldn't do anything!" she screamed, and Clyde stared at her, stunned at her outburst.

"What? No-"

"Oh, don't lie!" she shouted. "Everything's my fault, isn't it? I did everything I could, and I'm not Maria and never will be!"

"What's _Maria_ got to do with any of this?"

"Everything! All I've ever been is 'not quite Maria', a rubbish replacement!" Rani yelled, her voice becoming throaty as she strained her voice and deep buried emotions surfaced and sliced through her. Clyde shook his head quickly, guilty at the thought that he ever made her feel like that.

"That's not true at all-"

"Of course it is, I know it is! Credit me with some intelligence, Clyde!" she shouted shakily. "Sarah-Jane even said so to my face!"

"She…what?" Confusion broke out on Clyde's face that Rani didn't see through watery eyes. "No, she wouldn't have meant that…."

"Oh, she did." Rani sniffed and wiped away her tears on her sleeve, turning suddenly for the door. "I'll just go, Mr Smith won't help. It's over and it's my fault."

"Rani…" Clyde reached out, but she twisted away from his hand on her shoulder.

"Please don't touch me," she whispered, and a sob could be heard rising in her throat. "Just…let me go home."

Clyde opened his mouth to protest, when they both froze, hearing the sound of crunching glass downstairs. They both listened as frantic, thudding footsteps could be heard pounding up the stairs, and as they got nearer Clyde grabbed Rani around the waist and pulled her away from the doorway, standing in front of her protectively with them both staring at the door…

It flew open, but didn't reveal a soldier or even an alien. A girl about Rani's age now stood before them in the doorway, her eyes tired and haunted and her dark hair wild and unkempt about her shadowy face that lightened slightly as she saw them.

"Clyde," she managed to say in a quiet, broken voice, and-while Rani remained rigid as though turned to stone-his defence melted and he left her side to run forwards and pull the other girl into a tight hug that both welcomed her joyfully and shared in her grief. Rani felt a cold feeling of neglect spread over her skin like ice and a burning jealousy swell in her heart as she stood there, watching the two together, an outsider. She didn't even have a shadow to stand in anymore-now she was back, the gaping hole that had been left was re-filled. Rani was suddenly pushed out, or at least it felt that way to her.

The two broke off their cosy embrace and the girl approached Rani, a shy smile on her face. Rani couldn't bring herself to return it and just stared at her with a stony expression. It seemed absurd that she was even thinking or acting this way when so much more, so much worse was happening, but she was. Because _she_ was here, in the flesh. The girl who was always with Rani as an unwelcome ghost-with her friends, in the attic, in the rooms of her house. The girl who'd tried to help her. Innocent, but hurtful. She'd come back.

Maria had come back.


	13. Smith and Jones

**I owed you all an update much sooner than this, but I've had so much going on and then there was that Being Human boxset I got for Christmas just begging to be watched, sitting so sadly on my shelf gathering dust...**

**Anyway, I've updated now! I'm bringing in a character I'd planned to add since I started, it just seemed too convinient not to. More on Maria and that situation in the next chapter :)**

* * *

"Right people, I know it's coming up to Christmas and you're all tired, but if we all work hard we can finish of these projects before Christmas Eve." Lacey Morgan, head of scientific research, looked around the shiny laboratory at her weary, white coat clad workforce as they glowered up at her as if it were her fault that they were working overtime, as if she made the decisions, not Hartman. But she supposed she should have known by now that with great power comes great hatred from those beneath it.

"I didn't get home until three in the morning yesterday," a surly faced lab technician commented sourly. Lacey bristled, but pushed her shoulders back confidently and attempted to look sympathetic.

"I'm very sorry, but this work has to get done. If it isn't, it's not just your necks on the line." She held their gazes pointedly and momentarily before dropping her eyes and allowing them to be at ease. "Thank you for your time. You may resume your usual duties, apart from those working on Project 3-I need to speak with you. That's Jason Collins, Suzanne Marsh and Martha Jones."

A large amount of the crowd disbanded and dispersed, emptying to room and going back to their tinkering with test-tubes and poking at pathogens until only Lacey and two workers remained, who were eyeing her up nervously. Already at breaking point, she tried very hard not to scream at them, letting her anger wheeze out of her in a barely audible hiss:

"Where exactly is Miss Jones?"

"She's on duty monitoring Cell three hundred," Suzanne explained quickly, her words gushing out as one sentence.

"Her shift should have ended five minutes ago, it only needs to be watched for fifteen minutes every hour," Lacey said testily. Suzanne bit her lip, and Jason's mouth twitched-when he took a job in the new labs at a high security UNIT prison he knew it would be difficult, but at the rate he was going most of his money would be going on medication preventing stress induced hair loss. Most bosses were harsh and lots of people cracked under job pressures, but he was fairly certain that most of their bosses didn't carry a loaded gun on their person as well as an ability to fire them on the spot.

"Well, you called a meeting, she was probably waiting to be told by one of us to leave, like we usually do," he pointed out. Lacey said nothing, looking thunderous, and he added weakly, "Not that I'm blaming you, of course."

"She's new," Suzanne chipped in.

"Then you'll give her the message I'm about to give you then. Your project is highly dangerous and you have great responsibilities. If that…thing escapes or the infection spreads it could destroy the human race. Needless to say, your duties will not be halted by Christmas. For the good of the human race and in the name of UNIT," she said rather blandly, repeating what Hartman had told her to tell them. Suzanne and Jason looked completely miserable, and although she may be tough this situation was the last thing Lacey wanted to deal with, and it was with guilt at her own instructions and not nastiness that she snapped before storming off, "Now for God's sake go and get Jones before she dies of old age anyway!"

Obediently Jason gave her a sort of little bow that was more of a slight bob partnered with a jerk of the head before hurrying off into the corridor and entering the lift. He jabbed his finger against the little silver button that would take him down deeper in the prison.

**"Lower Level 2."**

The calm voice rang out and he tried to repress a shudder as the lift juddered as it took him down further under the Earth, under the warmth and security of the Labs and Offices…down to the cells.

* * *

Martha stood in the little side room, the metal hatch on the wall lifted as she stared through the thick pearly glass into the room. There were cameras inside and screens that could be watched, but she preferred to watch first-hand. It reminded her how real it was, and how she was helping them do it.

A faintly white misty substance drifted over the cell's concrete floor like some kind of low hanging cloud, slow, gentle looking but deadly. It swirled and centered around the figure in the center of the room, a creature with translucent, papery skin and wispy grey hair. It was human shaped-at the very least he or she stood tall on two legs, never wavering despite the living cloud of death it could produce. Every time Martha caught sight of its milky white eyes staring at her she trembled, but not for the same reasons as the others. Now it looked at her, and guilt wrapped around her heart like a snake crushing prey, its fangs lashing out and biting into her, the venom of guilt and turmoil and sorrow coursing through her system…

The white mist drifted past and obscured the glass she was looking through, and she took the opportunity to sever the connection and dropped the covering hatch back into place. She reeled backwards and collapsed onto a stool, resting her elbows on the clinically clean metal desk bolted to the wall and resting her head in her hands briefly before looking at the notes she had scribbled as required about the mist quantity and density, the colour and the creature itself. A row of three screens were mounted on the wall above the desk, showing the cell from different angles, a digital time in the bottom corner of each, every second that the imprisoned alien was in there ticking way.

The alien had been found on a beach in the South East of England, UNIT discovering later that its ship had crashed into the ocean. Soon the small tourist town nearby had been swamped with a curious fog, killing many who lived there.

UNIT arrived on the scene armed with gas masks against the alien's defences, but they too died in agony, found with white peeling skin and guns unused. Dressed in suits designed to withstand radiation, the alien was at last captured by UNIT and apprehended. The mist produced wasn't gas, but an infectious alien virus travelling in the droplets of the air, killing a human in seconds, designed to destroy them.

The alien and virus were trapped securely for now. Martha and her team were assigned to studying the strange virus-so far they had discovered that although deadly, the virus died out quickly and the alien must constantly create and emit a new shield of 'fog'. They could also see the virus move as the white mist-like substance, but that wasn't much comfort; the slightest contact or one breath of it and you were dead in moments.

Martha despised having to work for a place like this. She was smart enough to figure out that the only reason the poor alien wasn't dead and out of its misery was because UNIT wanted to find out how to first create an antidote for the virus, but also how to harness and use it to their advantage. She hadn't needed to hack into classified files to find that out.

Then there were the other prisoners, locked away alone and in the dark. After her time with the Doctor she couldn't help but view them as people, and could hardly stand to be associated with their imprisonment, even if most of the time she was safely holed-up in the shining new laboratories on the higher levels. But when she had moved back to England she needed work, and when offered a placement at a recently re-developed UNIT base she couldn't refuse. Everyday guilt ate away at her, and her mind was never on her work but on what the Doctor would say if he could see her doing what she was. Straight after Christmas she would get another position somewhere else-she became a doctor to save lives, not to help destroy and use them, whatever the species.

She looked up at the screens and shuddered, then-

"Gives me the shivers too."

Martha twisted round so fast she nearly fell off her chair, but saw only Jason standing in the doorway, watching her.

"I keep thinking, what if the walls can't keep it out, or the doors aren't safe enough. Every time I get a bit of a headache I wonder..." He carried on with his anxious splurge of worries, and Martha sighed, not bothering to try and explain to him why she really shivered.

"Jason?" she impatiently interrupted after a minute or so. "If you had been infected, I'd know. Because you'd be dead."

"Thanks, now I'm really reassured," he said sarcastically, and she couldn't prevent herself from smiling a little.

"Is my shift over then? Because I don't know about you, but I'm desperate for some lunch," she asked, stubbornly turning her back on the observation screens and trying to inject some humour into the situation.

"Yeah. But Ms Morgan told us that we're staying here over Christmas," he said, sounding down-trodden.

"Oh no, how terrible our lives are," Martha said with bitter drama, fumbling about with and gathering up her notes. She paused while he remained quiet, confused. "I won't be coming back after Christmas. I can't. I can't bear it."

"We're safe from the virus, it can't hurt us really-"

"Not because of that!" Martha interjected, exasperated and despairing over his attitude. "Because of all this, what we do, what we're working for!" She spread out her arms as if to emphasise the size of the problem, and the dropped slightly as she began to shake while she shook her head at him, her stomach writhing and burning as though she had swallowed poison. "How can you stand it?"

"Stand...stand what?" Jason seemed genuinely confused.

"These aliens we hold here, we use their abilities or bodies against their will, then just kill and burn them like used up garbage!" Her arms dropped to her sides, and now she was fighting back tears of sadness and complete disgust as Jason openly laughed at her.

"That's what this is about? They're aliens, Martha, they're not people," he laughed and the hairs on Martha's neck stood on end. "Some might look human- like that boy-but they aren't really, they're like animals, they can't think or feel like we do-"

"No, wait, hold on." Martha held up a hand to stop him, fresh dread creeping up on her. "What boy?"

"In Cell Block A, he was brought in last night," Jason said, shrugging like it was no big deal. "I don't know much, I only heard it from Tanya who processes new inmates. She wanted to borrow a quid for the vending machine and we got talking. Apparently he's some kind of weird grown thing for an invasion of some sort, and super smart. Hartman's taken a particular interest in him. This woman UNIT knows was hiding him, this um...er...it begins with and 'S'..." Jason snapped his fingers, trying to jog his memory while Martha remained rooted to the spot. "Sally-Anne or...Sarah-Jane!" he said triumphantly, and Martha felt as though someone had tipped a bucket of freezing ice over her head. "Sarah-Jane Smith was pretending he was her son or something. Of course, Tanya shouldn't have told me that, but I think she fancies me. I never really noticed her, nice hair though. Blonde. Maybe I'll give her a...hey, where are you going?"

Martha had hurtled past him and out of the room, ramming her ID card into the door's key slit so forcefully it nearly snapped.

"Martha!" Jason caught up with her and grabbed her arm. "What's up? Is it because of what I said about Tanya, because you're pretty fit too-"

"No, you-oh, shut up Jason!" Martha shoved him back with one arm as the door before her bleeped and opened. She ran through and down the corridor to the lift at the end, rushing inside as two soldiers got out, almost pushing them over in her haste. Sarah-Jane, the Doctor's companion and her son, she'd seen him...they had taken him. She wasn't going to stand for it. The Doctor would want her to fight. This was the last straw.

"Where are you going?" Jason called, stumbling to a halt after running after her, panting and out of breath. "I shouldn't have said anything, it's Tanya's fault I know, if you're telling on anyone it should be her!"

"I'm not going to say anything about you," Martha said, slamming her hand against a button to take her to the higher level.

**"Lower Level 1."**

"What then?"

"I'm going to see Hartman."

* * *

"She's busy."

Martha, after an impatient and nerve wracking journey in the lift and finding the courage and determination to bravely wrap her fist against the door to Monica Hartman's office, stared back at the stern faced, irritated secretary that was speaking to her through the partially opened office door in disbelief.

"With what?" she demanded, trying to peer over her shoulder but finding her view into the room firmly blocked.

"Her job, which is what you should be doing," the secretary replied waspishly.

"But I need to speak to her, it's urgent," Martha pressed angrily, not about to give in. "You need to tell her to let me in or-"

"Or she'll sack you for impertinence," the secretary snapped. "She doesn't want to be disturbed, now go and do what you're paid to do!" She made a shooing motion with her hand as if waving away a mongrel, and Martha raised her eyebrows.

"OK. Fine," she said curtly. "I suppose I can handle it myself."

"Exactly." Without any further ado the secretary closed the door in a fuming Martha's face.

"You'll pay for that," she muttered as she turned and headed for the Investigative Units as pointed out by the arrow printed on the wall. "You'll wish you'd let me in...and at least I don't look like I've just slammed my face into a tray of orange paint!"

Still angry but even more determined Martha entered Investigations Room One with more ease than she had anticipated, simply putting on a confident display and marching inside with purpose after safely stuffing her white coat (which would have immediatly caused her to stand out) in the nearby toilets and slipping inside as someone else went in.

The room was like a large ICT room at a school, filled with row after row of high-tech computers and walls lined with a number of filing cabinets. Most of the working people were so focused that they didn't even glance up as she passed, and with the sound of her footsteps lost amidst the constant tapping sounds as countless fingers drummed against keys it was easy to slip past inconspicuously.

She sat at a lone computer tucked away in the corner beside a coffee machine and got to work. Her new job was a step down from her old position, and she had no problems entering the computer; the passwords remained the same whatever UNIT base you were in, and she whizzed past the barriers of classified areas with ease.

"Sarah-Jane Smith," she murmured under her breath as she typed it in quickly, checking over her shoulder before she clicked the search icon. As she had expected hundreds of results came up for people with that name all over the world, but right at the top was a particular person the computer had selected, the information classed as classified to most levels of clearance.

_We'll see about that, _Martha thought, and defiantly clicked onto the page. A password box jumped onto the screen, and her hands hovered over the keyboard as she tried to draw on her experience and remember the passwords she had learnt.

Nervous and unsure, she decided to risk it and tapped in a password she had struggled to piece together from the faintest of her memories.

"Drat," she hissed as the box flashed red and informed her that it was incorrect. She knew she only had one more chance before the entire system would shut down.

While she was wracking her brains, a shadow fell over the screen and she turned, readying her excuses. But it turned out not to be someone who had noticed she was trying to smash through defences to reach classified information, only another shamefully ignorant worker getting coffee from the machine beside her.

A sudden idea hit her-it was hugely risky, probably wouldn't work and the victim would have to be incredibly stupid to fall for it.

It was just like old times with the Doctor.

In a flash she pulled out the plug's connecting wire to the back of the computer and the screen blinked into blackness.

"Oh no!" she said loudly, pretending to seem devastated. As she had hoped, the man getting coffee turned to frown at her, now clutching a steaming plastic cup in his hand.

"Something wrong?" he asked in concern, then looked her up and down. Her heart began to hammer against her chest. "You new? I haven't seen you around her before."

"You wouldn't have, I was on...holiday," she lied quickly. "I was in another department before, I mean, but then I went on...on holiday last month before starting here, specifically. And I'm...um, trying out new make-up. So I look different."

"A holiday, huh? Lucky, I've not been given a day off in ages. Go anywhere nice?" he asked, and-already in a slight panic at her terrible lie-Martha said the first place that popped into her head.

"Erm-Cardiff."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah. Anyway, could you help me?" she asked, gesturing at the black computer screen. "I don't know what happened, it just went black." The man looked wistfully at his coffee for a moment, before placing it on the tabletop and moving to her side to help. Martha held her breath as he inspected the computer, and tried to look surprised when he reached around the back of it and held up the wire.

"Looks to me like the problem is that it isn't plugged in," he said slowly, looking at her as though she was completely dumb. Which she supposed she was making herself look.

"Well, I don't know how that happened," she said, then added a high false laugh to complete the stupid bimbo character she had to create, no matter how disgusted it made her feel to act like that.

"It's easy to fix, just..." he plugged the computer back in, and the screen flickered back into life. He looked at her triumphantly as though expecting applause. She managed a wan smile.

_Time for phase two._

"Thank you so much, I find these computers so difficult sometimes what with all of those...pesky buttons."

She could have kicked herself, but coffee guy was lapping it up.

"It can be quite confusing," he said patronisingly, and Martha decided to cut straight to the chase.

"Oh darn," she said, slapping a hand to her forehead as she looked at the screen. "I've forgotten the password! What am I like? I don't suppose you remember this one, do you?"

"Let's have a look," he said begrudgingly with another glance at his cooling cappuccino, and she moved aside to give him access to the computer. "Ah, got it," he said as a tapped in the letters and numbers required, "I don't see why they need so many passwords, pain in the ass, eh?"

"Exactly," she said in a breathless voice as the password box flashed green then disappeared as lines of written information flooded the screen. She couldn't believe that worked.

"Easy," he said, gratefully picking up his coffee cup. He was about to leave when he paused and looked back. "I'm Nigel, by the way."

"Good for you. Bye Nigel," she said, raking her eyes over the information, her fingers itching to scroll down. Her gaze was glued to the screen until Nigel let out the tiniest of coughs. She spun the chair around, her arms folded. "Yes?"

"You're pretty," he said simply, and it took all of Martha's self control not to slam her face against the desk. "I bet you have a pretty name to go with that face."

"Helgert Boggrungespitbutt," she said with a straight face. He blinked at her.

"Yes. Um...you're kidding, right?"

"No," she said, pretending to be deeply insulted. For a moment he looked absolutely flabbergasted, until his grip tightened on his coffee and he gave a short nod.

"Good. Right, I'll...see you around...Helgert."

"Bye Nigel." Martha smirked as she watched him go back to his computer, then spun around and quickly sifted through the pages of information to find what she needed: a phone number and address. She found a pen and paper and was just scribbling them down when a related link towards the bottom of the page caught her eye.

"Luke Smith," she whispered, then-aware that every minute spent was a minute risked-clicked on the link. To her dismay, enormous blocks of text appeared. Undeterred, she quickly scanned the room and picked out the nearby printer. No one seemed to be using it, so before anyone could Martha hit print. Burning adrenaline coursed through and churned in her veins like rapids as she quickly logged out of the computer, snatched up the paper with the contact details and hurried over to the whirring printer. She waited impatiently as it rumbled and churned out the pages, her heart leaping joyfully as it gave one last faint whirr and a few feeble clicks before going quiet and still, the complete stack of papers printed and before her.

Grabbing them and treasuring them close to her chest, she made a beeline for the door, keeping her head held high and confident.

_I've done it, _she thought, _I've done it, just reach the door, I've done it, I've done it, I-_

"Martha?"

Her face storming over, Martha looked down and kept walking, trying to ignore the woman who had spoken. But then she felt a hand on her shoulder and she turned to see the face of Tanya Mason, a false and cheery smile plastered onto her face.

"Oh, hi Tanya," Martha rushed out with a glance at the door. "Can we talk later, it's just I'm busy-"

"Don't you work in the labs?" Tanya asked incredulously, her smile frozen into place as she flicked back her product stiffened blonde hair. Her eyes fell on the papers Martha was holding. "What are those?"

"Um, a top secret project for the...um, experimentation of...top secret...things," Martha lied, and Tanya's eyes became slits. "So I really can't tell-hey!" Martha snapped as Tanya yanked the papers from her without warning. She tried to tug them back, but Tanya held firm and her eyes could be seen rapidly moving from side to side as she looked down the page.

"But...this is-STOP!" she shouted as Martha snatched the papers back and bolted for the exit, hearing Tanya scream, "Someone stop her! She's not authorised to be in here and she's trying to take out some unauthorised information, somebody grab her! _She's unauthorised_!"

But even as people started rising from their chairs Martha was out of the door and hurtling down the corridor outside with no idea of where to run to.

"Over there!" she heard the voices behind her and the heavy boots pounding against the ground, and she looked around frantically. In her haste she had no choice but to keep running, rounding corners and dodging the odd lab worker as she went.

She slowed to a halt and nearly slammed into a door labelled 'Ground Level' with an arrow pointing straight up and the familiar blinking lock.

"Yes!" she exclaimed euphorically, plunging her hand into her trouser pocket for her ID card. But her searching hand found nothing. "No!" She searched desperately in her other pockets to no prevail, refusing to accept the unwanted but honest realisation in the back of her mind. She had left her card-her key to freedom-in her lab coat, which was currenly languishing on the floor of the ladies toilets in the direction she couldn't go in.

It was times like this she wished she had a sonic screwdriver.

Just for the feeling of trying, she tried to handle but, of course, it didn't budge.

"Gotcha."

Martha turned around slowly to see a man in a suit standing behind her, his hands held up in front of him and his knees bent, seemingly so he could grab her if she was stupid enough to try and run for escape in his direction.

"Any minute Tanya will tell Ms Hartman and sound the alarm," he said, then puffed his chest out proudly. "You've been rumbled-now, who are you working for?"

"...what are you talking about?" Martha laughed. He tried to make himself look threatening and serious, but wound up looking constipated more than anything else. She got the impression that he didn't often get the chance to do something like this-a simple man working in Investigations must have found the chase rather exciting.

"Don't play games with me," he said-Dirk Thompson, according to the ID Card pinned to his lapel-and folded his arms. "You stole some information not meant for you, why?"

"Look," she started to explain, "you don't understand, I work here. In Laboratory 2, I needed that information for a...project."

"If that's true, why did you run off?" he asked, looking massively chuffed at his own cleverness. "I'm sure Ms Hartman would understand if it was for a... _project_."

"Oh well, worth a try," Martha sighed, then-before Dirk could do anything but allow his smug smile to slip-she darted forwards and enforced her UNIT training in combat, rendering him unconcious in less than ten seconds.

"Thank you very much," she said, reaching down to his limp body and tugging the ID Card from his chest. An alarm began to wail and a voice boomed out from hidden speakers.

**"Security Breach in Level 1. Repeat, Security Breach in Level 1. All units in temporary lockdown, exit seal commensing."**

"Exit...NO!" Martha sliced the card through the gap and, after a few clicks, the door mercifully opened, realing a corridor with what was clearly a lift at the end. She felt that old rush of fear, adrenaline and reckless excitement as she ran for the lift. Once inside she hit her hand against the button on the wall, and the doors drifted closed almost lazily considering the urgency of her situation.

**"Ascending to Ground Level."**

The lift swooped upwards and rumbled beneath her, when it suddenly ground to a halt with a horrible scraping sound and a clang. Martha had only a moment to feel the fear of being trapped clench her before the single light flickered and went out, leaving her hanging in the silence and pitch black darkness.

"Oh just _brilliant_."


	14. A Problem Like Maria

**OK, if I'm honest, I'm not too pleased with how this chapter turned out, so I'm sorry if it's a bit rubbish. It needed to be written to get it out of the way-it's less of a big part of the plot, more like glue that holds it together, a kind of sticky bit that's not so great. The start isn't bad, but I hate that they have to sit around like they do at the end, but it's the only way really. **

**Oh, well. I'll try and make it more interesting in future chapters before they get to the actual task at hand. The next chapter will be about either Martha or Luke, I've already got part of them written. But before that, I need to get some beta work done.**

**Thanks so much for the reviews, I really appreciate it :)**

* * *

The atmosphere in the attic was frosty to say the least. The air itself seemed to freeze and still into ice, and Maria's eyes dropped from Rani's face awkwardly.

Clyde, however, was completely oblivious to any of this, and broke the silence in the most awfully tactless way that he possibly could, short of throwing a custard pie into Rani's face.

"So, my two girls!" he exclaimed, pulling the two of them close to him with either arm so that they were both squished against him. "Now ladies, no fighting over me. I know I'm awesome, just try to contain yourselves."

Maria managed a small grin, trying hard to wriggle out of his tight embrace, while Rani looked simply thunderous.

"If your head got any bigger and heavier you wouldn't be able to walk around," Maria joked, ducking under his arm as he cried out indignantly.

"My head is gorgeous, just like the rest of me," he said with a wink. Maria shook her head at him, and Rani tried a smile that turned out as more of a grimace.

"So what are you doing here?" Rani hadn't meant the questions to sound so cold and accusing as it did. For a split second Maria looked insulted, but she put on a brave face and answered as though she hadn't noticed her tone.

"After I saw what UNIT did to Luke I couldn't just stay in America, so me and Dad got the first plane here-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, hold the phone," Clyde interrupted, holding up a hand, looking incredulous. "You saw UNIT take Luke?"

"Well…yeah, I was talking to him on webcam at the time they burst in." Maria glanced at Rani, who was determinedly staring at her trainers with her arms folded. "…Rani didn't say?"

"Must have slipped my mind, what with my friend getting kidnapped and being knocked unconscious," Rani said, then looked up and added with a bitter smile, "Sorry."

As the two girls stared each other down, even Clyde noticed the tension.

"So, um, where's your Dad then?" he asked Maria in an attempt to steer the conversation out of dangerous waters.

"Looking for a hotel," Maria said, seeming grateful for the topic change. "He let me go ahead, he'll call me when he finds a suitable hotel to stay in. If that search fails, we'll take the last resort."

"Which is?"

"Calling mum."

"Why is that so bad?" Rani asked a little coldly as Clyde and Maria shared an annoyingly knowing laugh.

"Oh, you don't know Chrissie," Clyde said, grinning and waving a hand. "It's bad."

"Hmm," was all Rani said in response. Some of the initial happiness about being reunited between Maria and Clyde seemed to wither and crumble away, and Maria looked around the attic, which still had some broken objects littering the floor like bodies on a battlefield.

"This isn't exactly how I imagined coming home," she said quietly, and Clyde pulled her into a more serious one armed hug. Before Rani could stop them-it was as though half of her was screaming at her to stop while the other, more dominant half urged her on-the malicious words forced themselves past her lips.

"I'm sure Luke would never have let himself get kidnapped if he knew it would interfere with your return. Seriously, he's gone and you're getting sad over the loss of a welcome party?"

"That's not what I meant," Maria said, her voice with a hint of ice, "and you know it."

"Oh, and what's that supposed to mean?" Rani laughed, a small part of her writhing and sickened at its taunting, bullying sound.

"What am I supposed to have done? Because to be honest I'm a bit lost," Maria said challengingly, pulling away from Clyde to frown at Rani. Clyde himself looked slightly shell-shocked, and began eyeing up the window as though thinking of throwing himself out of it.

"Nothing."

Maria looked upset and confused as she next spoke and Rani, as guilt began to squirm, told herself she was faking it to make her look bad. "You look at me like…I don't know, like you hate me or something!"

"Don't be stupid, how could I? Everyone loves Maria!" The two of them abruptly stopped arguing as she reached an understanding. But neither seemed to know what to say. It was up to Clyde to break the awkward silence.

"…erm," he said. Both of their heads snapped towards him, and he seemed panicked at the attention. "So…so um…we need to make a plan! Mission Impossible, how to save Luke from the evil UNIT prison. Any ideas?"

"Mr Smith?" Maria suggested. Rani snorted in contempt.

"Don't you think we've already tried that?"

"Sorry I'm not psychic," Maria mumbled under her breath. At this point, Mr Smith himself decided to speak up.

"Sarah-Jane instructed me not to give any information to Clyde or Rani," he said loudly. "I cannot give any information to either of them." For a moment, they looked confused over why he had spoken to telll them something so disheartening that they already knew anyway. Then Maria's face suddenly lit up.

"But you can to me! " she exclaimed. "Can't you?"

"Yes, I can."

"Hallelujah!" Clyde whooped, throwing his hands up as though worshipping extravagantly.

"Mr Smith," Maria said earnestly, while Clyde practically bounced with anticipation and Rani tried to ignore the fact that Maria was saving the day, "can you tell us where Sarah-Jane's gone?"

"Sarah-Jane left for this UNIT prison on the outskirts of London," Mr Smith, bringing a map up on screen. "Where Luke is currently being held." Maria nodded seriously, then turned to face Rani and Clyde.

"So?" she asked briskly, taking charge in way that made Rani feel as though it had been snatched from her hands. "Are we going to go?"

"If it means helping Sarah-Jane and getting Luke back, yeah," Clyde said. They both turned to Rani, who bit her lip, hesitating. "Rani?"

"I don't know," she said, and wasn't just disagreeing out of spite. There was niggling feeling at the back of her mind, a sense of missing something. The instinct to investigate. "Sarah-Jane didn't want us to go, we might be a hinderance rather than a help. And…I can't help but feel we're all missing something here."

"…what do you mean?" Maria asked anxiously, folding her arms. "Missing what?"

"I've been thinking…Luke's been here for ages, and UNIT never bothered him or Sarah-Jane. They only just came now, something must have changed," she explained, her mind working feverishly even as she spoke, Maria and Clyde listening with serious expressions. "Something to alert UNIT's attention."

"A tip-off?" Maria queried, her problems with Rani forgotten and trivial in the dark of the situation.

"Possibly," Rani nodded. "And if someone else knows about Luke, we need to find them. Even if Sarah-Jane got him back, UNIT would never leave them at peace, and someone out there could have information on him. We need to know what they know, and who they are."

"But no one knows who he really is apart from us," Maria said, looking slightly scared. "Sarah-Jane wouldn't have told anyone, there's no one else who…" her words faded into nothing, dying on her lips as even they stilled with the rest of her body.

"Maria?" Rani asked worriedly, but she showed no sign she had even heard Rani, staring straight ahead. "What's-"

"It's my fault." Ran looked around to see a sick looking Clyde. "I didn't think about it, but it couldn't have been anyone else but her. It's all my fault."

"Anyone else but who?" Rani pressed impatiently, fear prickling her skin. "Neither of you are making sense-"

"Kelsey," Clyde said darkly, and Maria moaned softly and buried her face in her hands. "Kelsey Hooper."

"That girl who ran into us," Rani said quietly, remembering the rude girl and the effect she had on Luke that day. A sudden, furtherly confusing though struck her. "Hold on, Luke said she'd known for ages and was in denial-"

"She was in detention with us," Clyde said, still looking like he was going to throw up. "Luke and me, we got detention and she was there. I messed with her head, I…I frightened her, she annoyed me. She ran off all upset."

"That's why you two were so weird after," Rani said, the pieces falling into place to create a grim picture. "You didn't want Sarah-Jane finding out."

"I told Luke not to say anything, I didn't want her to get angry, I honestly thought it would be fine," Clyde said, agonised at himself. There was a silence in which nobody spoke and Mr Smith whirred quietly, until Clyde suddenly and without warning aimed a kick at a nearby table.

"Clyde!" Rani gasped, grabbing his arm only for him to wrench it out of her grasp.

"Why did she have to say anyting?" he shouted furiously. "She just had to open her stupid mouth! And I had to open mine and mess everything up! Luke even told me to say something, and now look what's happened!"

"It wasn't your fault-"

"But it is! Don't lie to me, I know you must think it's my fault too unless you're the world's biggest moron!"

"Thanks a bunch!" Rani said sarcastically, unable to prevent a pang of hurt flashing accross her face before forcing it into a stern, cold mask. "I won't bother trying to make you feel better then!"

"Good, I don't want it!"

"Just stop it! This isn't helping!" Maria cut in sharply, while Clyde stared at the ground, fists clenched tightly, and Rani stood awkwardly at his side. "In a way, it could be anyone's fault! It could be mine for meeting her in the first place. It could be the teacher's for putting her in detention with you that day, it could be yours for antagonising her, but the difference is we didn't know what we were doing! She told UNIT, and UNIT are the ones who acted. Not us, not you. Them. If you want to help, come with me and Rani to save him. If you want to mope around feeling sorry for yourself, go home." There was a pause while Clyde digested what she said, looking like a sulky child who had just been told off. To mark making his decision, his head still lowered, he shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffed his shoe accross the floor and nodded miserably.

"So what do we do now?" Rani asked, and-to her annoyance-it was Maria and not Clyde who answered.

"Ask Kelsey what she did."

"And if she tells us, what then?"

Maria simply shrugged.

"What, so we just go without a plan?" Rani asked in disbelief, giving Maria a scornful look.

"You don't always need a plan. Sometimes it can even be your advantage," she replied, infuriatingly wisely. Rani made a soft sound of contempt.

"That's just stupid."

"That's what Sarah-Jane told me."

There. Clyde looked up from his trainers. Maria watched Rani closely, who was fuming. She had been lured into that trap and she knew it. Very deep down, screaming out but buried under a mountain of built up resentment and jealousy, Rani knew she had brought it on herself and that she deserved it. Maria had tried to help save her before, and had done nothing wrong except be friends with Rani's before her. But seeing her in the flesh, standing in the attic, with not even her shadow to stand in anymore, was cold for Rani. To see her hugging _Clyde_, talking to Mr Smith...and after what Sarah-Jane had said...

_No, _Rani told herself quickly. _Don't think about that. _

But the memory hurt her anyway.

"Kelsey'll be at school now, though," Clyde pointed out. "And we can't exactly just waltz in now-forget UNIT, Rani's dad would kill us on sight."

"We'll just have to wait," Maria said. "We'll find out where she lives from Mr Smith. Have you called Sarah-Jane?"

"I'll try and call her again."

"Until then, we'll have to stay here," Maria said. There was brief moment of quiet as the three of them took in the wreck of the attic and thought of the smashed door downstairs, leaving them exposed and vulnerable.

"Or," Rani said, desperate to help in some way and all too glad for an alternative to staying in the empty house, "there's my place."

* * *

Maria was grateful and overcome with an almost crushing relief as they crossed the road from the house-she couldn't have stayed there a second longer. It just felt so wrong, so...cold.

Her eyes didn't leave the back of Rani's short blue denim coat as she marched ahead of them, her head turning ever so slightly every now and then as if wanting to look back at her, perhaps sensing her stare, but then looking rigidly ahead again, her long dark hair flicking over her shoulder.

Maria hadn't expected a warm welcome under the circumstances, but hadn't anticipated such a frosty one. She understood how Rani must feel-like a replacement. But obviously she hadn't thought about how it felt to be replaced.

Feeling more strain on her already battered heartstrings, Maria tried to cover her ache as they approached the small, snow-capped house on the other side of the road. What used to be her home. What was now Rani's home.

A few of the old plants had been torn up, Maria noticed, and replaced with new little bushes and colourful, bigger, more expensive looking flowers. Oddly, Maria empathised with the old wilting ones her dad had tried so hard to nurture-her roots with this place had been ripped away to to make way for something new too.

The curtains in the windows were different, and after Rani had pulled out a key and unlocked the front door so they could step inside, still more differences could be seen, each one like a kick to Maria's gut. A new painting in the hall. Someone's unfamilar pair of shoes discarded by the door. A different television set, a new sofa, a new dining set, a new lamp, a new carpet. And-worst of all-an enormous photograph of Rani smack-bang in the middle of the living room wall, dominating the room as if to say _'this is my world now'._

"So, I suppose we just wait here," Rani said briskly. "Maybe make a plan and-what is it, Clyde?"

Clyde had been staring around in the space near the TV, even peered behind it, looking horrorstruck as he turned to Rani.

"Where's the Xbox?"

"...We don't have an Xbox."

"How can you_ NOT_ have an Xbox?!" he asked, looking almost hysterical. "What are we supposed to do all day?!"

"Read something?" Rani suggested, nodding at the newspapers and magazines on the table before adding, "that is, if you can read."

"I've never picked up a newspaper in my life!"

"Now's a good time to start then. Anyone want tea, coffee?" she asked. Clyde-who was now raiding the DVD collection frantically-shook his head. Rani's eyes flickered towards Maria. "You?"

"No thanks," Maria answered in a monotone, her voice coming out twisted and strange. She was still standing at the entrance to the room, unable to bring herself to step further inside.

"I'll just make myself one, then." Rani went off to the kitchen, and Maria hesitantly approached the sofa and lowered herself onto it, unable to shake off the surreal feeling of being in what she still thought of as her house while someone else played host.

"Nothing!" Clyde said hotly, sitting by the TV, now surrounded by a minefield of DVDs. "Nothing that doesn't feature Jennifer Aniston or Anne Hathaway in some chick-flick! They don't even have _Star Wars_." Realising that Maria wasn't ranting with him, he twisted around to look at her. She realised she couldn't be doing a very good job at appearing casual, as he gave her a small, sympathetic smile.

"Bet it's weird, being back here," he said. Maria nodded, suddenly choked up.

"You could say that." She sighed, and Clyde got up, still holding a bunch of DVDs, and sat next to her. Maria knew he didn't really care about the movies-he just wanted a distraction. She did too. But it seemed that the world only ever gave her more problems to deal with.

"Look, I get it. I moved around a lot when I was a kid," he said.

"I'm guessing you never had to go back to your house again, though, did you?" she asked quietly. "When someone else was living in it?"

"...no. But you're living in America now! That's got to be way better than here!" he said, in an attempt to cheer her up. She didn't say anything, and he put his hand on her shoulder, concerned.

"What's up? Look, if you're that upset, seeing as it's you...we can watch 27 Dresses." He held up the DVD and closed his eyes as though it was causing him great pain, and Maria couldn't help but laugh.

"I wouldn't do that to you," she joked, and he grinned that grin she had missed so much. "No, it's just...I'm wondering if I should have gone at all. What if...what if I'll never see-"

She cut off as Rani walked back in, who had stopped suddenly at the sight of Clyde and Maria on the sofa, Clyde with his arm around her. He whipped it away, but the damage had been done.

"Find anything good to watch?" Rani asked in a light, cheery voice that didn't match the steel in her eyes. Clyde leapt up as though the sofa cushion he was sitting on had suddenly burnt red hot and snatched up a DVD from the floor.

"This one! Yeah, um-" he studied it, and cringed as he saw the cover of the DVD he had supposedly picked. Twilight.

"Great." Rani walked over and very deliberately sat herself down between Clyde and Maria, pulling a notepad and pen accross the table in front of them. "We'll make plans while we're here."

Clyde switched on the TV, and the three of them sat squashed together on the sofa uncomfortably. Rani Chandra, Maria Jackson and Clyde Langer. All of them in for an agonisingly long wait before they could act. Maria, who had to handle being in her reformed house while her repacement sat next to her making plans to save one of the people she loved most. Rani, dealing with sitting next to the person she replaced but could never quite live up to in Sarah-Jane's eyes while feeling the guilt of not managing to save her friend, imagining the burning resentment the two people beside her felt towards her.

And poor Clyde, who had to endure watching Twilight while two girls shot daggers at each other for reasons he couldn't quite understand and didn't really want to.

It was going to be a very long wait.


	15. Only Human

**Thanks for your reviews for the last chapter :) Sunday has become update day, as I've found that I keep updating on that one day for some reason, so just a head's up for when to expect an update.**

* * *

Deep inside the pitch darkness of a lift shaft that plunged down into the Earth, a loud, echoing clang could be heard as Martha Jones desperately tried to get through the metal lattice ceiling of the lift.

"Come...ON!" she shouted through gritted teeth, slamming against the metal hatch with her shoulders. The locked padlock jangled mockingly as the hatch shook but refused to give way. Gasping for air, Martha accepted defeat and groaned, sliding to the floor. There was no way out. Even if she had managed to somehow get out, she'd still have to find a way to climb up the shaft.

She swore under her breath-sooner or later someone would discover that the lift wasn't working and in turn find her inside it. Sighing, she tightened her grip on the papers in her hand that all the trouble had been for. Not only was she about to be sacked, she had failed.

Deciding that sitting in the dark wasn't going to make things any better, she tugged her phone from her pocket and switched on its torch, holding the small sliver of light that it produced over the papers. She scanned down the page of useless information-after all, it was no use to her trapped in a lift-then stopped as the light slid over the shadows at the very bottom of the first page. Contact details.

With Sarah-Jane Smith's phone number.

With a leap of hope, Martha sat up straighter and checked the signal. No bars.

"Oh no you don't," she said fiercely, getting to her feet and holding the phone up above her head, anxiously watching the signal strength. "Please...please..."

One bar.

"YES!" Quickly, she punched in the phone number, her phone in one hand and the paper in the other. Hitting the call button, she let the paper drop to the floor and pressed the phone to her ear, praying for the signal to hold and for someone to answer...

* * *

Sarah-Jane ran through the trees, ignoring the branches that clawed at her face and clothes, her legs pounding as fast as they could.

Losing the police hadn't been easy, and she had to the Doctor to thank for it. Her tiny little car had been struggling over the bumpy field with the elite police vehicles closing in on her, when she had taken a chance, leant out of the window and aimed her sonic at the nearest car.

At first, all she had achieved was to turn the sirens off, which-although a relief-wasn't really much help. Cursing, she tried again, and struck lucky. The car suddenly swerved to the left as the driver appeared to lose control, and, ducking back into the car, she saw the red-faced police officer frantically trying to turn the jammed wheel before ramming up the emergency break and grinding to a halt.

After taking out the other Police Cars in her pursuit, she headed straight for the nearest stretch of deserted road that she assumed was mostly used by farmers, putting her foot down and speeding along the tarmac. She whizzed past tractor, and had barely a split second to see the farmer's jaw drop before she was off in a clowd of disturbed dust.

Now she had abandoned her car in a cluster of trees on the outskirts of a small forest, and was heading in the general direction of Mr Smith's map, knowing she was close. That he was close.

She had stopped, gasping for breath as she leant against a gnarled tree trunk, when her phone began to ring and vibrate demandingly in her pocket. Almost certain it would be Clyde, she pulled it out irritably. She glanced at the screen an frowned. Unknown number?

She hesitated, then accepted the call and held it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Sarah-Jane Smith?" The voice on the other end sounded vaguely familar, but she couldn't quite place it. Knowing it wasn't necessarily a friend, she replied cautiously.

"Yes, and who are you?" she asked suspiciously. "How did you get this number?"

"It's Martha Jones. Remember?"

With relief, Sarah-Jane did. She was there with Daleks, was the Doctor's assistant...and...

"You work for UNIT," Sarah-Jane remembered coldly.

"I-yes, I do, but I know what they've done!" Martha said, sounding desperate, and Sarah-Jane froze with her finger on the button that would end the call. "I want to help you."

"...how?" Sarah-Jane whispered, hardly daring to hope.

"I'm in the buildling where he is."

"He's alive?"

"As far as I know, yes," Martha replied mercifully, and Sarah-Jane nearly cried with relief, slumping against the tree as extra tension she hadn't even known she had been carrying left her body. "When I found out they had your son I stole some information, but they found out. I'm trapped in a lift, they shut down the exits from the building while I was leaving. We haven't got much time until they find me, unless you get here first and help me escape. Then I can help you."

"Why?" Sarah-Jane asked after a pause. "Why would you risk so much for me?"

"You're the Doctor's friend," she replied simply, and Sarah-Jane felt a glowing feeling of respect for her.

"Thank you," she said quietly, then raised her voice to a brisker, authorative tone. "Right, I'm already headed for the UNIT prison, I'm in some kind of forest, I should be close, according to the map I have."

"I usually go by road, never on foot," Martha said worriedly.

"I had to leave my car, the police may have recorded my number plate. It's a long story, but I can't risk being spotted."

"OK, find the edge of the road and I'll talk you through it from there," Martha said. Sarah-Jane was starting to search for a thinning in the trees, focusing on the streaks of light filtering through shadows, when Martha spoke up again. "Did you...did you try and call him? The Doctor?"

"He didn't pick up, he was busy," Sarah-Jane said quietly, trying to keep the hurt from her voice. "He's amazing. But unreliable."

"We don't need him. We can do this ourselves," Martha said fiercely, but Sarah-Jane could sense her underlying disappointment. "This isn't like those other times. We're fighting humans, not aliens. We might only be human, but so are they."

"That," Sarah-Jane said coldly, "Depends on what you think being human means. What UNIT do...that prison...it's one of the least human things I've ever known."

* * *

Luke didn't know how long he'd been in the cell for. The quiet was somehow so loud, the bland design of the room leaving a blank canvas for his mind to drag up memories. Sleep was impossible on the cold rough floor, and when he tried all he could think of was home, his friends, the horrors still in those cells, Hartman's sneering face...

He didn't have nightmares. He didn't need to-real life was so much worse.

He had retreated into a corner, his face buried in his knees, when the door opened again, harsh light rushing in and eliminating the darkness, intruding. He looked up wearily, exhaustion leaving no more room for hate. They'd come for him. But he wasn't ready to give up yet.

"You said I'd have twenty-four hours," he told the two soldiers at the door quietly, remaining on the floor stubbornly. "It can't have been that long."

"We've come to take you to Ms Hartman," one of the men said gruffly. "It is her wish to speak with you."

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, drawing further back against the wall.

"It wasn't our place to ask, and is certainly not yours either," the soldier replied coldly. "You will come with us-defiance on your part will be met with immediate execution."

Deciding he had nothing to lose at this point, he stood up hesitantly. The two soldiers moved inside, tugged his arms behind his back so they jarred painfully and snapped on a pair of handcuffs. They grabbed him by the arm and tugged him onwards and out into the corridor, and steered him along quickly, going a different way to before.

Eventually, after passing through the usual heavy door and lock system, they reached the shining silver doors of what looked like an ordinary lift. Terrified, but his curiosity peaking, Luke allowed himself to be shoved inside. One of the men hit his fist against a button and the doors clanged shut, a voice ringing out:

**"Lower Level 1."**

The lift shuddered and trundled upwards, the tense silence broken only by a small whirring sound as the lift went up the shaft. It slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open.

"Move." A hand pushed him forwards and he stumbled out of the lift into a new, different corridor. Cirular lights lined the walls, casting a soft light onto the corridor. As he was moved onwards, Luke passed a number of men and woman, dressed-not in UNIT uniforms-but white coats or suits, with elaborate hairstyles or quirky ties, all of them giving him incredulous or frightened looks as he passed.

After enduring many uncomfortable stares they arrived at a door with a small golden plague reading 'Ms Hartman'.

"Don't try anything," one of the soldiers warned Luke threateningly, before rapping on the rich, expensive looking wood of the door. After a pause, a young, stern looking woman opened it. Her eyes fell on Luke, and she nodded curtly and stepped back to let them through.

The office was large and perfectly square, with spotless white walls and a cream carpeted floor. In exactly the centre of the wall an abstract painting hung, slashed with red paint, looking very much like an image of a particularly grusome massacre. Directly bellow the painting was a polished glass desk in the shape of a cresent moon, curved around a matching chair in which Hartman was sitting, another chair facing it accross from the desk. A row of pencils were layed out on her desk, each perfectly allined with each other and in ascending order of size. A stack of paper lay in the middle of the desk. Apart from that, the shining glass surface held nothing else. Two matching grey filing cabinates were on either side of the room, their positions mirrored exactly by the other. Other than these features, the room was spacious and empty. Unwelcoming, sharply clear and cold, not unlike Hartman herself.

"Sit," Hartman commanded him with a smile as the door clicked shut behind him, gesturing to to the second chair. The soldier nearest him removed his handcuffs, and he flexed his hands as he crossed the room. He sat down, and Hartman stiffened with a sharp intake of breath. "Could you move your chair to the left, so you're facing me. Now."

"...What?"

"Just do it!" she snapped, and he scooted his chair sideways. The stiffness melted from her, and she smiled wanly.

"I like everything to be in order," she told him. Luke cast an eye over the room, and noticed that she had exactly the same ring on her index finger-silver with a black stone.

"You have OCD," he observed.

"No, I'm neat," she snapped at him furiously. "Which is why I would hate to have to get blood all over this lovely carpet, so my advice would be to keep quiet unless I ask you a question!"

Obediantly, he held his tongue. Looking pleased, she leant back in her chair, her eyes never leaving his.

"I just had to speak with you. I even broke off the lockdown of the lower levels just to get you here...see, I called you in to see if you had reconsidered my earlier proposal. Have you?"

"No," he said firmly. "I haven't, and I won't."

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," she said, her lip curling cruelly. "You see, I don't want to see you wasted. You will help us."

"I-"

"What did I say?" she interrupted him sharply. "I neither want nor care about your opinion. I tried it the easy way. Meredith," she said, raising her voice. The young woman-Meredith, it seemed-hurried over and handed Hartman something sealed in a plastic bag before darting back again, which she held up. "Do you know what this is?"

"That's...that's my phone," Luke answered in a low voice, confused. Hartman nodded, and turned it over in her hands so the thin plastic crackled, before she slid it out.

"We took it from you the night you were apprehended," she said. She switched the phone on and looked through the menu, and began scrolling down the contact list, while a chill spread over Luke's skin. "All of these people on here...your family, and your friends. All too easy to track down. We have a list of all the people who mean the most to you. All of the people we could use against you."

"No," he gasped, distraught, but she held up a hand, still looking through the phone.

"Let's see, shall we? Who should we get first, hmm? Mum? Rani?" she read out as she passed each name. "Clyde? Maria-"

"Don't!" he shouted, leaping out of his chair. The two men at the door immediatly trained their guns on him, and he lowered himself back down, trembling. "Please, no-"

"You have the power to stop it," she reminded him calmly. "Nobody has to get hurt. But this is your very last chance. I will ask you one last time. Will you cooperate and work for us, or do all of these people have to die?"

For a moment, he was paralysed, unable to speak or move.

"Well?" she prompted. He tried to speak, but his lips were too dry. Hartman let out a mock sigh. "Oh dear. What a shame, I suppose we'll just have to find and shoot them all-"

"I'll help you," he whispered, as though they would be less sickening that way. Hartman raised her eyebrows and leant towards him, cupping her ear.

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that," she said.

"Yes. I'll help you," he said more clearly, and she smiled sweetly. "But only as long as you promise not to go near any of them!" he added hatefully, his voice becoming a tremor. "Or the deal's off!"

"You have my word," she said seriously, and nodded at the two soldiers who came forwards and hauled him up by the arms. He pulled them out of their grasp, and for a moment stood and stared at Hartman, generating all he couldn't say into that one look.

"You," she said, with a soft laugh as the handcuffs were snapped on again, closed and locked in a series of clicks. "And your _hatred._ On the face of someone who looks human. But know this," she said, leaning accross the desk while he continued to look at her, his expression frozen into one of loathing. "You aren't, and never will be. A poor immitation. That woman, Sarah-Jane Smith, is not really your mother. You're friends, anyone on this planet, are not like you. You have not got one single person in the world. No relations. You are alone. If you were human, why would that be? I ask you-how can you expect me to believe you are human when you don't even feel it yourself?"

"You...you're wrong," he whispered, but something inside him twisted sickingly.

"You tell yourself that," she said. "You are the devil hiding in the skin of a boy. I am merciful, and am letting you live, and serve the human race. But still, you are wrong. You'll never walk on the surface of our planet again. That is how it should be." She watched him challengingly, waiting for a reaction. But he didn't move. She smiled sympathetically and tilted her head at him. "And I think you know it too."

As he was led away by her nod to a life of hell, she didn't care for him. As she put the phone down carefully on the glass of the desk, she didn't care for the people he had saved. She didn't even care that she had finally broken him. At that moment, all she cared about was the tear stain on her carpet.


	16. Rules Were Made To Be Broken

**Sunday update, as promised :) In this chapter, if anyone's wondering about Chrissie's behaviour, she remembers the truth about what Maria did and has figured out something's going on-more will be explained soon.**

**Thank you for all of the reviews!**

* * *

Alan stared up at the enormous, fancy looking house with its fancy car parked in its fancy drive, and felt the urge to throw up in the fancy flowerbed.

He knew that Chrissie would be furious if he didn't tell them that they had arrived straight away, and knew that Ivan (mercifully) was away on a business trip. If they had to stay for some time, this was a better option than a hotel. Probably.

With Maria's suitcase in one hand and his in the other, he took a deep breath, buried his pride under a sense of loyalty to his daughter and walked up the path to the grand front door with the feeling of being a pig trotting into the slaughter house, the wheels of his suitcase clacking as he pulled it along over the stones and ridges in the path. What was she going to do when she opened the door and saw him with suitcases unannounced?

He was either going to get a hug, a kiss, a slap, or all three.

When he reached the door he braced himself, and rapped against the wood sharply with his knuckles, ignoring the pointless, ornate bronze door knocker that Ivan had only really put there to show off. There was a long pause in which Alan became hopeful that she wasn't in, and he was about to turn around when there was a click and the door swung open.

"Alan?"

"_Chrissie_?" Alan stared in disbelief at the woman in the short, flimsy red dress in front of him with startlingly golden hair, rigid as stone with the amount of product it contained. "Since when did you have blonde hair?"

"Since when did you have a _tan_?" was her immediate response, running a curious but inappropriate eye over him for an engaged woman. "And since when were you _here_?"

"Maria…wanted to come back for Christmas," he lied. "Sorry we didn't ring."

"And where is my daughter?" Chrissie asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously as she peered behind him.

"She nipped over to Sarah-Jane's," he said, and Chrissie snorted.

"Honestly! She'd rather speak to that Sarah-Jane and her son…Liam?"

"Luke-"

"She'd rather speak to them first than her own mother! No, I'm not having it Alan, when she gets back here we're going to be having words-"

"Chrissie-"

"It's lucky Ivan's not here, you just turning up out of the blue with your bags expecting a room!"

"I-hey, hang on-"

"That is why you're here, isn't it? Oh, I don't know! Men, always come crying to the women! I hope you at least brought me back something from America-"

"I-"

"Because I'm used to a certain standard of living now! You should see our TV, it covers the entire wall! Not like that poxy little thing we used to have, and even then you were too cheap to get half the channels-"

"Yes, yes, but can we stay here?" Alan asked loudly, finally getting a word in. "Is it OK?"

"Oh, all right then," she said, rolling her eyes but grinning as she stepped back to let him through. "Honestly! But you're not to make a mess, I won't have your socks littering the house."

Sighing, Alan heaved the suitcases inside with great difficulty, Chrissie closing the door behind them both. He looked around at the dauntingly grand stair case then the small oak table on which a crystal vase held dainty looking flowers.

"Bit posh," he commented. "Should've expected it-Ivan does have the dosh." He looked at Chrissie expectantly, who's face remained stony. "Get it? Posh...dosh...it rhymes so-"

"Don't try and make jokes, Alan, it's painful," Chrissie said with scorn, then marched down the corridor and through a frosted glass door, struggling slightly in heels the size of the Empire State building. "Do you want tea or coffee?"

"I'll have the Earl Grey."

"You won't even be getting a place to stay in minute!" she called out fiercely, and Alan smiled, dumping the bags unceremoniously in the hallway. He had-perhaps against his better judgement-missed Chrissie. But she wasn't his anymore. He had no right to miss her.

He waited a moment, allowing himself to reminisce, before heading into the kitchen from which the sounds of clinking china and a roaring kettle were coming from.

"...Two sugars," Chrissie said with an air of practiced efficiency, spooning two teaspoons of the white grains into a delicate bone-china teacup that was half filled by the sugar alone. "Better than Ivan, he has four! He has such a sweet-tooth, I keep saying, he'll lose all of his teeth..."

Alan listened to Chrissie babble on as he leant against the doorframe with his arms folded, trying to keep in check the fond smile that was threatening at his lips.

"So how're the wedding plans going?" he asked as she filled the cups with steaming hot water.

"Oh, just awful! There are about five designers I can't choose between for the dress, and Ivan's even more useless than you when it comes to that sort of thing," she said, sighing in an agonised, world-weary way. "And then there's the big decision."

"Big decision?"

"Veil or Tiara."

"...can't you just have both?"

"Don't be so stupid Alan, it's not that easy! It all depends on the type of dress and the flowers and what the bridesmaids are wearing...I'm telling you, it's a nightmare!" Chrissie passed him his tea, then leant back against the counter, sipping her own before holding up a hand as another thought struck her to complain about. "But it's still not as bad as our wedding, with that whole disaster with the bridesmaid!"

"She had the flu," Alan said in defence of the woman unfortunate enough to be roped into the wedding as part of Chrissie's entourage of bridesmaids.

"She could have made the effort! It messed up my plans completely!"

"Maybe it was sign," Alan said quietly, "that it wasn't meant to be." A cold, miserable silence decended, and-immediately regretting his words-Alan took a gulp of his tea just for something to do.

"Urgh!" he said, pulling a face as he swallowed it down. He looked into the murky brown liquid as though expecting to see that it was green. "What's wrong with it?"

"You asked for Earl Grey," Chrissie reminded him offhandedly, and for a split second they glared at each other. Then Chrissie's mouth twitched, and the twitch became a smile which became a grin, which became laughter.

"Maria can have the spare room," Chrissie said, recovering from their shared laughing fit. "You can have the sofa bed."

"Brilliant," Alan said sarcastically. "So Ivan's gone until Christmas, or...?"

"No, he won't be coming back for Christmas," Chrissie said lightly, turning her back on Alan and busying herself with placing the cups in the dishwasher. "You can stay as long as you want. In fact, when Maria shows her face she can help with the wedding plans. She needs a dress and you need a suit."

"When is he coming back? Ivan, I mean," Alan asked, frowning slightly. Chrissie shrugged, walking over to the door, still refusing to look at him.

"Sometime soon, he didn't really say."

"But that's not on-"

"Alan," Chrissie said with one hand on the doorhandle, in a tone which firmly said that the subject was closed. "He'll tell me when he's coming home. Come on, I'll show you the house." She marched into the hallway as though on a mission, before stopping without warning and turning on her heel to face Alan. "Actually, I'll call Maria first. She has her phone, yes?"

"Um, yeah, but...I don't think she wants to be disturbed," Alan mumbled, but Chrissie scoffed.

"I don't care, she's my daughter and I'll call her whenever I want. I shouldn't be coming second to that Sarah-Whatever anyway!" she exclaimed indignantly. Before he could stop her she had stomped through a door and into an enormous living room, Alan at her heels.

"Chrissie," he tried desperately as she headed determinedly for the phone lying on the small polished table in the corner, her heels beating ryhthmically against the wooden floor. "Don't, I-I'll call her!" he shouted as she placed her hand on the phone. Chrissie picked it up out of its holder and faced him, still holding it threateningly.

"Why are you so desperate for me not to talk to her?" she demanded to know furiously. "My own daughter! There's something you're not telling me," she deduced, shaking her head at him. "Does she not want to speak to me?"

"No, no, it's not that," Alan assured her, seeing the hurt on her face. "She...wanted to speak to you again face to face, that's all." For a moment Chrissie watched him, searching for signs of lies.

Alan focused very, very hard on stopping his mouth from twitching.

"Fine," she said eventually, chucking the phone at him, which he fumbled for and just managed to catch. "You call her. But get her back from there. I want her here."

"But, Chrissie-"

"No!" she snapped, her eyes flashing. "I want her away from that woman's house, not while we aren't there! She should be here," she said, a little more calmly but still with a voice tight with tension. "With us. With her mum. Please, Alan." She turned on the very same bambi eyes that he so often dealt with in the case of Maria, and he surrendered with a sigh, punching in the numbers and holding the phone up to his ear, his eyes never leaving the watchful Chrissie.

* * *

"...and I think Rani should wait outside as back-up."

"Back up? No, you can forget it! I'm not waiting outside as 'back-up', Clyde!"

"But if something happens to me and Maria-"

"She's a confused, upset teenager, do you expect her to have a machine gun or something?"

"Might as well do."

It was at this point that Rani angrily threw a cushion at Clyde, which hit him in the face and momentarily halted his planning.

"We all go in together," she said firmly. "We're not splitting up. And besides, I'll be able to get her to talk-Sarah-Jane taught me some tricks."

"Fine. What time is it?" Clyde asked tiredly, pushing the cushion onto the floor, giving up on trying to make plans to protect a stubborn headed Rani. She checked her watch.

"Ten-past two," she informed him, and he groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back against the sofa.

"Even now, everything stops for the school bell," he muttered. The hours of waiting had proved largely unproductive-they had made plan after plan involving dozens of different scenarios, but the truth of the matter was that it would be a relatively simple operation.

"I know it's stupid, but we haven't got much longer," Rani said consolingly. "You could try Sarah-Jane again?"

"Her phone's engaged," Clyde said gloomily. "I hope that means she's onto something."

Almost as though it was reminded of its function at the talk of phones, Maria's began to ring, muffled in her pocket. She got up from the sofa and pulled it out hastily, accepting the call without bothering to check who it was.

"Hello?"

"Maria?" The hopes she didn't even know had been raised plummeted at the sound of her dad's voice. She didn't know who else she had been expecting-Sarah-Jane, maybe, even though she had no idea she was even back-but somehow it felt like a blow.

"Hi, dad," she said, more to let Rani and Clyde know who it was more than anything else. Clyde, who had involuntarily leant forwards at the call, sat back again, looking exasperated. Rani only dropped her eyes to the floor, picking at her sleeve, a habit she seemed to have picked up during the past few hours.

"I'm...I'm with your mum," he said guiltily, then added, "Sorry." In the background, Maria could hear a shrill voice cry, _"What do you mean, sorry?!"_

"No, don't be silly, it's...it's fine," Maria said after a deep breath, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Are you at Sarah-Jane's?" he asked. Maria cast her eye around the familiar but different living room.

"Sort of. She wasn't there. We went over the road. Me, Clyde...and Rani," Maria said, a small, lonely and damaged part of her wishing for him to understand, to help like he always did.

"What do you mean, over the road? Who's Rani?"

"The girl who moved into our old house. Don't worry. She knows everything. Sarah-Jane told her."

"Oh...Maria-"

_"For God's sake, Alan, hurry up and stop jabbering on or give the phone to me!" _Chrissie yelled impatiently in the background.

"Look, your mum wants you to come here, to Ivan's," Alan explained gently. "And too be honest, I think she might be right to especially if Sarah-Jane's not there-"

"No! You don't understand, I have to stay," she said urgently, tears forming in her eyes. Sensing the others watching her, she brushed them away and slipped through the door she knew lead to the kitchen. "Please, I need to help."

"Can't Sarah-Jane just-"

"No!" Maria interrupted again. "I've come this far, I'm not leaving him now! It's my decision!" Roused by her raised voice, there were pounding footsteps as Clyde and Rani entered the kitchen. Maria held up a hand and shook her head at them, indicating that it was OK. Rani shared a glance with Clyde before retreating back into the living room, but he remained glued to the spot in the doorway.

"It's as much mine as it is yours, I'm your _dad_."

"I know," Maria said with a catch in her throat. "And I'm sorry. But I have to do this."

"No, Maria, not without her it's not safe-" Alan cut off suddenly and there was the sound of a violent scuffle before a new voice replaced his.

"Maria!" Chrissie shouted down the phone in a pitch so high that half of London could probably hear her, let alone Maria and Clyde. "You listen to me, I am your mum and I don't know what you're doing over there, but God help you if you don't get yourself over here right now!"

"I'm...I'm just at a friend's house," she stammered, but Chrissie laughed shrilly in a way that was almost a snarl.

"I'm not stupid! You listen to your mum young lady, it was OK when you were in America but I know the truth and you can't-"

Pushed too far, Maria wrenched the phone away from her ear and hung up, her hands trembling as she snapped her phone shut. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply before looking to Clyde.

"Your mum's a bit stressed then?" he asked, looking a little shell-shocked himself.

"Just a bit," Maria muttered, before moving past him into the living room and snatching her jacket up from the arm of the chair. Rani looked up at her from making notes.

"Going somewhere?"

"I need to get out," Maria told her, shrugging on her jacket. "Mum's probably got hold of a tank by now, and I can't tell her what's going on or let her take me home. Anyway, I can't stand sitting here anymore. I'll go to Kelsey's house and wait for her."

"I'll come too," Rani decided, rising from the sofa. "Sitting around here's been doing my head in."

"I'll stay." Clyde, who had been strangely quiet, spoke up. He was speaking to them, but remained looking at the floor, seeming deep in thought. "I'll see if I can get Mr Smith to give us some advice or something."

"But he won't talk-"

"Doesn't matter," Clyde shrugged. "And I'll watch Sarah-Jane's house in case UNIT comes back, or someone sees the state of her front door. It might raise a few questions, don't you think?"

"Well...I suppose," Rani agreed slowly, frowning at him. "Are you OK, Clyde?"

"Yeah," he said brightly, giving her a small smile. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because I'm not," she answered truthfully. "And you seem...weird all of a sudden."

"I guess it's just everything," he said, raising and dropping his shoulders half-heartedly again. "Seriously, just go. I don't think Kelsey'd want to see me anyway." Rani kept watching him for a few seconds, then nodded.

"OK. We'll be back soon. C'mon," Rani said to Maria, grabbing her phone from the coffee table and hurrying towards the door before turning around and pointing warningly at Clyde. "But keep your phone on!"

"You know me, I'd die before I let my phone run out of battery," he joked, and-with one last fleeting smile-Rani left the house with Maria. The instant he heard the front door shut, the smile vanished from his face. He waited a while, then slowly walked over to the window and twitched back the curtain so he wouldn't be seen. He could see the two of them walking down the road together, and kept his eyes pinned on them until they rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, before letting the curtain fall back into place.

With the same stony expression, he left the house and crossed the distance between Rani's house and Sarah-Jane's. He took little notice of the glass sprinkled ground and passed through the mouth of the house and ascended up the stairs. When he reached the landing he paused, before throwing out his hand and pushing open the door to the attic.

Mr Smith had retreated into the wall, and-alone in the room-Clyde moved inside apprehensively, towards the one place he knew Sarah-Jane would never want him to look. There was a desk by the wall, made of rustic looking wood and blending in innocently with the rest of the attic, looking in no way different. But Clyde knew what it held.

He had only found out by accident. A few weeks ago, they had been investigating strange findings at an archeological dig, when strange bones and items had been discovered. Scans confirmed it was alien, but although the creature had decayed, the gun in its dead hand had remained, shining and new looking, somehow unharmed by time. They had taken it back to the attic, and Sarah-Jane had instructed them to go downstairs and wait until she came down. Luke, of course, had obeyed without question and, although she seemed puzzled, so had Rani. But Clyde stuck around, spying through the crack in the door. He trusted her, but was curious and a notorious rule-breaker. Once he had seen why she had sent them away and his curiosity was quenched, he had felt guilty, and never let on that he had seen.

Now he was glad he did it. Because he knew where Sarah-Jane kept them.

He had seen where she hid the key, and found it again buried in the damp soil of a nearby flowerpot. Sweeping the crumbs of dirt off the tiny golden key, he approached the drawer and put the key into the tiny lock, turning it until he heard the satisfying click. He tugged out the drawer and it slid open smoothly, revealing the objects wrapped in cloths inside. His blood throbbing in his ears and his heart pounding, Clyde reached inside and carefully scooped one of the shrouded items out, and slowly peeled the covering white cloth away until it lay bare in his hand. Sleek. Silver.

Deadly.

Dropping his bag to the floor, he re-wrapped the alien gun and placed it inside with frantic haste, looking over his shoulder as he did so, half-expecting to see a disapproving Sarah-Jane watching from behind him. She had never fully trusted him, he realised; she had concealed where she kept weapons from him. Maybe she had been right. But he had to do it. Rani and Maria would go in without weapons, loyal to Sarah-Jane, but Clyde couldn't. This time, if they were to stand even the slightest chance of saving Luke, they would need more than quick thinking and a bit of an attitude. UNIT would be prepared and in large numbers, ready to shoot them dead the moment they sensed the tiniest threat. After confronting Kelsey, no matter what she told them, he was going to fight.

Killing when unnecessary was wrong, Clyde believed. But they had taken his friend, snatched the life from Sarah-Jane, wounded Maria and tormented Rani. And Clyde had never felt more of a loss.

As far as he was concerned, that was a license to kill.


	17. Kelsey

The chilled air was placid and carrying a weighty silence splintered only by the sound of ice crunching underfoot, the soft winter sunlight making the slightly thawed snow and frost on the walls and leaves of the hedgerows by the houses on either side of the road glisten. The overall effect was calm, pretty even.

Deceitful of real circumstances.

Maria and Rani walked side by side in absolute silence, neither daring nor wanting to speak a word to the other. Maria walked the tiniest way in front; she knew where Kelsey lived, having been there only once. The evening after the Bubbleshock incident she had found her address using Mr Smith and tracked her down, leaving a perplexed but happy Luke and Sarah-Jane alone. She had tried to explain that it was fine, that they had saved everyone, but Kelsey refused to listen, choosing instead to believe the story of the news, despite the fact that she herself had seen and been attacked by an enormous, squid-like alien that had wanted to eat her. And that had been OK. Until now. The thicker the lie and the firmer the belief in it, the more shattering it was when it broke. Maria could only imagine what sort of mess Kelsey would be in when they found her, and almost felt sympathetic, and would have if she had not engangered Luke's life.

"This is it," Maria said, her voice delayed upon reaching even her own ears as she struggled out of her thoughts. Rani, appearing to be lost in her own mind, took a few moments to observe the scene.

It was hard to believe that a place like Kelsey's estate stood even remotely close to Bannerman Road; the houses, though solid looking, were ugly and squat, most of them a repulsive grey colour and made of a lumpy kind of stone that gave the appearance that the buildings were constructed from congealed porridge. Some people had attempted to dress up their houses with paint in bright pink or yellow colours, but had only succeeded in making them look garish. The gardens were no better, with weeds that grew up to the height of Maria's knees and burger wrappers and various drinks cans nestling in the untidy grass instead of flowers. One particularly grotty house had a snow-capped pile of bricks lying outside it that had been there since Maria last came, as though the builders had given up halfway through building the house upon deciding it was a lost case.

"...cheery atmosphere," Rani commented, as a dog barked and snarled somewhere nearby. Personally, with Rani around, Maria hadn't found the atmosphere much better at Bannerman Road.

"I know. That's her house," Maria said, nodding at the one towards the end of the road. The two of them approached it cautiously. A woman with her bleached blonde hair scraped back from her face in a lank ponytail and wearing a bright pink tracksuit came out of the front door of the house beside Kelsey's. She was clutching a large black bin bag in one hand and an empty glass bottle in the other, and she narrowed her eyes at them as she dumped the rubbish in the bin. Trying not to pay attention to her hostile glare, Maria quickened her pace until she had reached the gate of Kelsey's home.

"Right, so should we wait here or around the corner or-"

"Wait." Maria stopped and turned at her interruption.

"What?"

"I think I saw someone move behind the window," Rani informed her grimly. Maria looked to the small front window, and studied the greying net curtain that covered it. There was no sign of any movement at all.

"I can't see anyone."

"I know what I saw," Rani said snappishly. "There was someone in there, at the window. And they haven't come out, so don't want to be seen. It's her, it must be."

"But it's still school time-"

"It's not that weird for someone like her to be skiving, is it?" They stared each other down until, reluctantly, Maria nodded.

"Right." Trying to block out the sting of her wounded pride she hurried up to Kelsey's front door, and knocked sharply. No sound came from the other side, and after a few minuted Maria knocked again. Still nothing.

The woman from the house next door had been watching them, and she gave them a strange look before going back inside. Feeling immensely foolish, Maria knocked again.

"Are you sure you saw someone?" she asked Rani, a little angrily, wondering if she was winding her up.

"Yes! Oh, move over," Rani commanded, brushing Maria out of the way and hammering against the door with her fist. "Kelsey! We know you're in there!"

"No, stop it!" Maria hissed, but Rani ignored her and continued thudding her fist against the door so hard she could nearly smash through it.

"Still not coming out? Fine!" she shouted, and crouched down and prised open the letter box, peering inside. "We'll break a window if we have to! We know exactly what you've done you nasty little-" Seeing a flurry of movement through the gap Rani stood up quickly as the door flung open to reveal a furious Kelsey.

You nutters better get off my doorstep before I call the police!" she warned them, and ran her eyes over Maria. "What are _you_ doing here?" she asked rudely.

"Listen," Rani said firmly, halting Maria as she opened her mouth to snap back. "We've come to talk to you about UNIT, and unless you want that conversation to happen in the middle of the street you'll let us in!"

"What the hell is UNIT? What are you going on about? You're mental, you are!" she snorted, and went to pull closed the door. But, quick as a flash, Maria foot was out, keeping it open.

"Do you have any idea what you've done?" she asked, her voice full of hate and despair. "Luke never did anything to you!"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Kelsey hissed, shoving her away roughly. "Go. AWAY!"

"I'm sorry about what Clyde did, but please, you have to tell us what you said!" Rani said desperately.

"Clyde?"

"Clyde Langer!"

"I've never even spoken to that Langer kid, I keep as far away from you freaks as I can get!" Kelsey said disgustedly. Maria and Rani exchanged a look.

"But...what about that detention?" Rani asked slowly, looking puzzled. "On Friday?"

"What detention?" A confused, muddled look swept accross Kelsey's face. "I didn't...no, I didn't have a detention friday!" For a moment, both Rani and Maria looked confused. Then understanding danwed on Rani.

"You don't remember anything you did on Friday at all, do you?" she asked. Kelsey looked for a second horrified, then the hand on the door handle trembled. "Kelsey, I think UNIT must have-"

"I don't know what UNIT is, I don't know what you're talking about, NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!" Kelsey shrieked, pushing them both hard so the stumbled backwards. "Freaks!" she spat, before slamming the door in their faces so hard that it shook in its frame, the sound punching a hole in their eardrums and leaving their ears ringing.

"I think UNIT wiped her memory somehow," Rani said after a while, the two of them still standing gobsmacked in the front garden. "She seemed genuinely confused.. If they came that Friday they would have wiped her memory of the last twenty-four hours, getting rid of the memory of them and her confrontation with Clyde and Luke."

"So we'll never know exactly what she told them?" Maria asked in irritation. "Great!"

"Well, we know it was her for sure now," Rani said. "That's an upside." They were both quiet before Maria spoke softly, carefully.

"Rani...I..."

"We need to get back to Clyde," she said, putting her back to Maria and walking quickly towards the road. "And call Sarah-Jane again, and talk to Mr Smith..."

She kept talking, refusing to let Maria say what was on both their minds. In some ways, she as much in denial about the situation as Kelsey was. Maria knew that the longer they waited, the worse it would be when they finally came to blows...


	18. Desperate Times

**Sorry this chapter is a week later than usual, but I was so busy last week I just didn't have time. This one is a lot longer than the last one though.**

**I don't own anything in this chapter except the characters I made up-especially Simon. **

* * *

Luke was led, not back to his cell, but through a maze of identical corridors that twisted and turned until they reached a new door. Upon opening it, he saw immediatly the gleaming white surfaces, high tech computers flashing with new information, the equipment littering the room in an organised and genius mess, strange contraptions emmitting sudden bursts of forget-me-not blue fire or puffs of strange crimson smoke. Tall crystal vials held shimmering liquids of various colours and thickness, with a few bubbling or hissing while others remained quiet and peaceful, almost as though they had personalities of their own.

Even at his lowest point, with the cold metal of the handcuffs digging into his flesh, part him still found it strangely beautiful. But it was hard to appreciate these thoughts and feelings, the vision to see what most others couldn't, because with the guns and locks and prison cell waiting for him below, all he could think about was how he was programmed to think that way.

He barely knew who he was anymore-or if he wanted to be that person at all.

"You must be our guest." A woman with soft, kind brown eyes behind the thin black frames of her glasses and dressed in a white coat came to greet them, every inch of her radiating authority, but not hostility. "And you are...?"

The question was aimed at Luke, but it was the soldier beside him who gave a stiff answer partnered with a salute. "He is Prisoner 234, ma'am."

"So he doesn't have a name them?" she challenged with an eyebrow raised, and his hand snapped back down to his side. "He's a person, not data. What's your name?" She asked Luke directly.

"Luke," he said, surprised at how hollow his voice sounded and how...alien the name seemed. Like it didn't fit. He didn't feel like Luke anymore; it seemed Luke Smith with his mother and his friends was fiction, fake. A story he had made up that had no been exposed painfully as a lie.

"Luke," she repeated with a smile. "Good name-my brother's name."

"They aren't the same. A human name stolen to hide his true identity," the soldier said dryly, and she shot him a filthy look.

"Better than Prisoner 234 in any case," she said frostily. If Luke hadn't felt so distant, he would have felt some appreciation for this woman. "I can hardly expect any work from him when he is handcuffed, so if you would be kind enough to remove them...?"

"Ms Hartman considered this problem and gave us instructions to replace the handcuffs with this," the soldier said, pulling a metal ring from his pocket. He jabbed his thumb against a button on the side, and it became alive with a slight but menicing buzz and a tiny light blinking on one side. "Electronic handcuff. You get a remote control, any problems just use it to zap the prisoner with whatever charge you choose. Shock, stun, kill." He sniggered slightly. "Like a dog collar."

"I know, my workforce developed it," she said briskly, seemingly in a hurry to end the conversation. Taking the hint that she wasn't impressed at his amusement at what was quite frankly a murderous gizmo, he quickly snapped the activated band onto Luke's wrist.

"Don't even try to take it off unless you want to get fried," he warned him. "Its controls only recognise registered DNA of UNIT officials."

"Thanks for the warning," he said coldly, while the woman in the white coat looked down with an expression of something like regret on her face. The soldier turned to her.

"Want me to stay?" he asked, but she shook her head almost before he finished speaking.

"No, I can show him around on my own." She looked at him calculatingly over the rims of her glasses, and smiled sourly. "How funny."

"What?"

"UNIT. Soldiers and guns and handcuffs-you fancy yourself as the Big Bad Wolf, but you're so terrified of a single boy."

"Clearly you need to be reminded that you yourself are a part of UNIT," the soldier said, the first hint of annoyance in his voice. "You make our guns and handcuffs." On that bitter note, he gave her a brief nod that wasn't returned before turning and leaving, keeping a tight hold on the gun in his hand as though scared that if he released it and allowed morals to penitrate his stubborn, blind sense of duty it would be torn from him.

"Look at him," she said with a touch of laughter. "In his little red beret." Luke didn't say anything, and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sorry. I'm not...I don't consider myself a part of them. My interest is in science, that's all. Not...that is..." She sighed. "Never mind. Now," she said in a more upbeat tone, "I'm Dianne Collins, and this is Lab One." She started walking and gestured for him to follow, and-very conscious of the band on his wrist-he did.

"Lab Two studies and logs alien behaviour, Lab One and Three develop weapons and other things from alien technology," she said as they passed a table of people scribbling down notes and observing something under a microscope. "Now you've joined us you'll be most valuable. I've read your case notes-for a long time UNIT had been interested in people like you."

"What do you mean?" he asked, a flicker of alarm breaking through the feeling of bleak numbness he had been experiencing.

"They're interested in the idea of genetically engineered soldiers-perfect health, perfect skills, perfect soldiers. It would put an end to people giving up their lives for war; people would be grown for it instead." Seeing the look on Luke's face, she added, "I never said I agreed with it. And don't worry. They're nowhere near that yet, and as long as I'm here they won't ever be." They had reached the other side of the room, and were faced with a steel door that was an exact copy of the ones that guarded the cells.

"Storage," Luke read from the writing printed on the metal. "For what?" In a silent answer, Dianne slowly reached into her lab pocket, pulled out her identification card and slid it through the lock, the door opening to allow them access. She stepped through, and with a sick feeling of apprehension, he followed suit, only to stop suddenly, staring down the corridor.

"How many?" he croaked, the last of his wits straining and threatening to crack at the hidden horrors of UNIT.

"...Dozens."

Dozens of them. Of the glass doors that showed rooms barely larger than cupboards stacked against each other, stretching down the corridor. It was worse than the simple cells downstairs. Luke could see what each glass cage held, something either ravaged and near destroyed or anguished and waiting to be ruined. Searched and used and broken until there was nothing left. Something that in the back of his mind he had guessed existed from the beginning. And now he saw them. What he had to work with.

Lab Rats.

* * *

She had made it.

Sarah-Jane, hidden in the shadows of the trees with her phone still in her hand, looked out at the run down, grubby but large building slap-bang in the middle of the field surrounded by a wire fence that seemed to stretch from the ground to the sky itself.

"It's disguised a slaughterhouse." Martha's distant sounding voice came out of the phone, and Sarah-Jane brought it closer to her ear, Martha's presence becoming sharper. "The one place they know people won't be compelled to have a nose-around."

"Oh, it's appropriate enough," Sarah-Jane said. "But the actual prison is underground?"

"Yes. If you go inside, there's a series of doors in the walls for the lifts. Another room acts as a car park for the people who work there. It's quite easy to navigate, but there are a few problems."

"The fence?" Sarah-Jane guessed, casting her eye over it.

"For starters. Don't let it fool you, it's not just wire-its got a big enough electrical current running through it to kill you stone dead the second you touch it," Martha informed her with-although she may not have realised-the emotionless, deciding tone of a commanding officer briefing troops on a mission. "The usual way in is the front gate, but you need an ID Card to unlock it and pass through as well as passing the retina recognision camera. Even if you managed to get past that, there are security cameras everywhere and guards inside."

"It sounds impossible," Sarah-Jane said, studying the wrought iron gates. "But I have to try."

"If-when, you get inside, I'm in lift shaft three, it'll be labelled. But how you'll get inside-"

"Don't worry," Sarah-Jane said, switching the phone over to her left hand and digging her sonic out of her pocket with the right. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve. Trust me."

"I haven't got much of a choice," Martha said. "I'm trapped halfway up a lift shaft in pitch darkness with no way of getting out exept for you-so get a move on. Don't leave me hanging."

"You can tell you travelled with the Doctor. He told terrible jokes too."

"I guess I deserved that," Martha laughed. It was funny how different Sarah-Jane felt talking to Martha than she did with Rose. Perhaps it was because this time, the other companion had already been dropped. When Rose had stood before her, young and blonde, fresh from the TARDIS and travels, it had felt like a slap in the face, and at that moment Sarah-Jane would have liked nothing more than to share the feeling with her. Slowly they had accepted each other, but with Martha there was an instant feeling of friendship-they weren't scrapping and snapping at each other for the Doctor, because he was already gone. They were helping each other. They had to.

Because he wasn't there.

"Thanks," Sarah-Jane breathed as she began walking slowly towards the gates, treading carefully and making sure to stay hidden by the trees, keeping an eye out for cameras. "Thanks for helping me."

"Same back to you," Martha said. "I swear, UNIT won't get away with this. We'll stop them."

"Yes. Right. I'll call you back," Sarah-Jane said, fighting to keep her voice steady. Because if she failed, it wouldn't just be her life that she had lost. "That is, if I don't get captured or shot."

"You'd better call me back." Then the call went dead, and Sarah-Jane stuffed the phone back into her pocket and advanced onwards, the sonic held out before her as the only weapon she had.

Twice she was met with a prickling feeling at the back of her neck and twice she whirled around to disarm a security camera blinking in the bark or amongst the leaves of a tree-it was likely that she would soon be spotted, if not already. She would have worried about it, if she didn't have bigger things to worry about.

The gates were enormous, strong, and impossible to approach without the ID Card Martha had specified or the recognised retina, not to mention the guards. So that only really left one option: the fence. _Can't go under it, certainly can't break through it..._

After quickly glancing to check the cost was clear, she rushed forwards as lightly on her feet as she could, then pressed herself as close to the wooden pillar at one corner of the electric fence as she could. That close she could hear the faint humming sound like that of a wasp, except the cause of this particular buzz would give her more than a sting.

_There's always a way, _she thought desperately, searching for something, anything that might help her. _Perhaps an enormous gap in the fence, or a glaringly obvious tunnel leading underneath conveniantly left by UNIT? _

Her hope was on its last feeble legs when it was jolted suddenly back to life as forcefully as though she been struck by the fence's electricity; on the other side of the very wooden post she leaning against was a small, black box wired to the fence. The box that-hopefully-supplied the charge.

"Yes," she exhaled, aiming her sonic at the box as best she could. With a few clicking sounds, a small bang and a puff of smoke and some sparks, the hum of the fence began to die away until the air was filled only with a still silence. Cautiously, with the thin wafts of smoke still drifting on the wind in grey tendrils, Sarah-Jane picked a small stick up from the ground and lightly touched it to the metal of the fence the way she had been taught to test whether it was live.

Satisfied, she cast the stick back down to the ground and chose one of the many tiny holes in the fence to put as much of her fingers through as she could fit, braced herself, then put the toe of her boot in another of the gaps and hauled herself up as best she could. The thin wire dug into her fingers painfully, and the entire fence shook and jangled as she began to climb. The way up was hard as she was pulling herself up with what seemed like only the tips of her rubbed-raw fingers, and lost her footing more than once.

"I'm getting too old for this," she muttered to herself after slipping for what must have been the fifth time, her heart still thudding after the scare.

When she at long last reached the top of the fence, things got even harder. Pushing herself up and over the jagged top to the other side without loosing her grip took all of her strength, and when she was just halfway down the other side of the fence she could bear it no longer and simply let go to drop down to the ground.

Her feet slammed onto the solid, hard packed mud and she nearly tumbled over from the impact that sent a vibration through her bones. Hissing from the pain in her legs and hands, she examined her finger tips-each now had an angry red indent running accross the soft tips.

Rubbing her hands against her trousers, creating the illusion of rubbing away the pain, Sarah-Jane crept forwards slowly, her eyes flicking left and right for cameras or guards. Seeing nothing, she made a dash for the wall of the building in front of her, the short sprint seeming like a marathon.

The second she was within touching distance of it she reached out to feel it with the points of her fingers like a child finding 'home' whilst playing a game of Tag, before flattening herself against it. She took a quick breather, then primed her sonic and sidled along the wall, keeping one palm pressed against as she prepared to push off and hurtle away. Reaching the corner of the building, she very, very slowly looked out while remaining as hidden as possible.

A distance away where the gates, with two men standing on either side. They appeared to be dressed normally to avoid suspicion if someone did happen to come accross the place, but the handle of a gun could be clearly seen poking out of the pocket of the left-handside man's tattered jeans. The icy wind picked up her hair at the exact moment one of the guards looked around, and she was delayed in whipping backwards. He might have seen.

Her cold-numbed grip tightening around her sonic lipstick painfully, a child's toy it seemed now. She felt her heat rate rise as she began to panic. Her breathing became short gasps of freezing air as she debated what to do-was she mad? How could she have put herself in this position?

* * *

"...did you see something?" Simon asked the soldier on the other side of the gate, squinting towards the building suspiciously. The other guard, Jared, looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

"No. Not again. Remember that time you 'saw something' and got a whole squad out here, only to find that a flipping rabbit had burrowed under the fence?" he reminded him bitterly, then sighed, the expelled air drifting up into the air as mist. "It'll be nothing. We've been guarding this gate all day, I'm bloody freezing! No one could have gotten in."

"The fence-"

"Would fry anyone who touched it," Jared interrupted boredly. "Face it-we're doomed to stand out here forever, never seeing any action until one day they find our ice covered corpses, killed by a mixture of boredom and this stupid weather!"

Patronized and-as usual-feeling a bit pathetic, Simon nodded meekly and resumed his original position of standing by the gate and staring ahead at the path and trees, scanning for non-existent intruders. But, as hard as he tried, he couldn't shift the niggling feeling at the back of his mind, and that gut instinct in his stomach that warned him of danger, that he was being watched.

"I'm going to take a look," he decided boldly, and Jared rolled his eyes. "Better to be safe than sorry!"

Ignoring his collegue's disapproval, he turned and headed away from the gate, slowly making his way over to the edge of the building where he had seen the fleeting movement. Carefully, he slid his handgun gun out of his back pocket and held it before him tightly in both hands, a sweat breaking out on his palms. He was sure someone was there-he could feel it, that prickle on the back of your neck, and adrenaline spiking your blood.

He neared the corner, his finger resting on the trigger, and stopped. Then he thought he saw a shadow shift, and he leapt into action, jumping out, ready to shoot.

But there was nobody there.

In the quiet with no sound but the whistling wind, he felt like turning back, but kept his gun ready and advanced forwards gradually, looked to the side and behind him, checking incase they snuck up on him. After a few more steps he paused, and still heard nothing.

"SIMON!"

He jumped about a foot, shock vibrating through his bones, only to stop and swear loudly upon realising it was only Jared.

"What?" he called over his shoulder.

"You found anything? Or was it just Peter Blooming Rabbit again?"

"Nothing!" he called back. "There's nothing here!"

"I told you! Now come back and stop being an idiot!"

Sighing deeply, Simon brought down the gun and turned to head back, coming out of the adrenaline rush with nothing more than wounded pride.

That is, until he felt a blow and a burst of pain somewhere near the back of his neck, and he found himself pitching forwards towards the ground, the world shutting off just centimeters before collided with it.

* * *

Sarah-Jane looked down at the lifeless body sprawled on the ground in front of her, having been dealt a moderately hard but perfectly and exactly executed blow. Wasting no time, she crouched down, carefully prised the gun from his hand and put it to one side, and set about searching his pockets quickly.

"Yes," she breathed as she got her hands on the small plastic ID card. But although her euphoria shot up, it soon crashed down again. The second guard would call out again any second, and investiagate to find his partner lifeless on the ground. And Martha had said there were other defences...

Below her, the fallen guard shifted and groaned. Desperately, she tried to think, and found herself forced to make a choice between following what the Doctor would have wanted her to do and what she had to do.

* * *

His head was throbbing painfully, his brain seeming to be pulsating and beating against his ear drums. Every inch of him ached, and with an embarrassingly pitiful moan for a UNIT soldier, his eyelids flickered open.

And everything suddenly got so much worse.

"...Oh sh-"

"Quiet!" The woman-his attacker, he supposed-towering over him hissed. The gun she was holding remained hovering above him, and in panic he scrambled for his own, only to find and see no sign of it.

"That's my gun," he said in horror, then said rather squeakily, "Give it back." Fear blasted through him, exploding from within him and shattering his nerves to pieces. He had only just joined UNIT, he wasn't ready for this. He was just a guard, he had no gun and no back up and no hope.

"Very observant," she said sarcastically. "Now listen-you're coming with me, and you're going to do exactly as I say."

"Oh...um...no I really...really don't think I should, I mean that...that is you aren't supposed to be here," Simon stammered, petrified.

"Look," she began hotly, and he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and held up his hand.

"I will, don't shoot!" When he forced himself to open one eye, he saw-not the cold hearted malice of the usual sort of person who would be daring and stupid enough to break into a UNIT building-but surprise and pity.

"I won't," she said, almost kindly. "If you help me. That's all I want."

"Why?" he croaked, and she was about to answer him when another shout of Jared's rang out.

"Simon?" he sounded more unnerved this time. "You coming back or what?"

"Tell him you're fine," the woman, still holding the gun, commanded. "Tell him you're just going to search the perimeter." He said nothing, frozen, and she moved the gun closer. "Now!"

"I'm...I'm fine!" he yelled back, his eyes wide and pinned on the gun in front of his face, a sweat breaking out on his forehead. "Great! Really fine and...and dandy! Dandy as...as a dandilion!"

"Get back here then!"

"I'm just going to look around!" he shouted. "Just to be..." He winced slightly as he turned away from the gun. "Just to be safe!"

"Do whatever you want mate, I can handle standing here doing nothing by myself!" Simon heard distant laugher and, feeling sick, looked back at the woman above him.

"Please don't hurt me," he pleaded again. "I have a wife and kids!" She raised her eyebrows. "Well, a...a sort of girlfriend and a goldfish, but the point still stands-"

"Stand up," she interrupted, seemingly fed up with his jabbering. She held her gun away and to her side, and stepped back, giving him room to clamber in a less than grateful fashion to his feet. "Good. Now show me to the entrance, and don't let us be seen."

* * *

Staring through the slightly frosted glass of the containment cell nearest to him, Luke could see a young looking a creature coated in glistening scales, with a few patches of pale green skin showing where they had either fell or been scraped away. She was female, by the shape of her face and build, but it was hard to tell-there was no hair on top of her head, but what resembled a spiky green fin speckled with gold. Her dull yellow eyes met his, and for a split second he saw everything she felt: fear, lonliness, and crippling sadness. She and the others held in this place were even worse off than him.

He and Dianne walked with a respectful silence down the long white corridor, and every occupent of the cell seemed to get more and more haggard and sorrowful looking as they went along.

In roughly the tenth cell, the person inside stood as they passed, and Luke stopped. It was another female, human in form, but with faintly gold glowing skin and hair, and eyes that were entirely black. She walked forwards slowly, and put her palm on the glass door that trapped her. Without realising he was doing it, he placed his own hand on the other side of the glass. She tilted her head to look at him, and he was filled with the unsettling feeling that she was searching him with those eyes that seemed to be filled with the night itself. The glow around her grew steadily brighter, and brighter, but even as he sensed danger he couldn't bring himself to pull away, mesmerised. Suddenly she jarred and pulled back, crumpling to the floor and clutching her head, her mouth open in a scream that was held behind the walls as she was.

"Open it!" Luke shouted in panic as she curled up on the floor, her hands over her ears. Dianne came hurrying over.

"What-"

"Just do something!" Luke yelled, but even as Dianne swiped her card through the lock the alien inmate was growing still. With a series of beeps the door unlocked, and he shoved it open and ran inside, dropping to his knees beside her. "Are you OK?" For one terrifying moment she didn't move at all, but then she glanced up at him, her face streaked with tears. She frowned.

"Where...how...what are you doing in here? Who are you?" she asked him, then raised a hand to cheek, seeming surprised to feel the tears. Then her face became stormy. "Who are you?" she asked again, more serious than puzzled this time.

"You collapsed," he said, finding her obvious disorientation odd. "There was this light thing..." At the part that made him most confused, she suddenly seemed to understand.

"It happened again," she said. As the terror drained from him, Luke realised that the glow had vanished from her, and her eyes were now a plain blue rather than black.

"What did?"

"She can see the future," Dianne explained from behind him. "She's told us many things."

"Does it hurt?" Luke asked her, noting the tears and the way she had fallen so suddenly.

"It's hard to explain," she said quietly, her eyes moving over him, sussing him out as she considered going any further. He was apparently deemed trustworthy, because she continued. "I never know what I'll see. Sometimes it's random events, like a new Sainsburys opening, other times it's visions of wars to come. Sometimes I see events in a person's personal timeline-sometimes my own. Depending on the event, I feel the feelings it will cause. Happiness, dissapointment or sadness. Then I forget. Occasionally flashes will come back, but not everything. It think it's better that way."

"You put your hand out to me," Luke said, beginning to feel a coldness spread over him as he remembered her reaction to whatever she had seen. "You screamed and...and you cried. Was... that my future?"

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully, and his stomach tightened. She narrowed her eyes at him. "You seem familiar."

"I've never seen you before."

"But maybe I've seen you," she replied darkly. She turned away, and seemed to concentrate hard before shock and realisation grew on her face.

"What is it?" he asked quickly. "Where did you see me? Was it a vision? What happened?"

"I'm going to die here," she stated suddenly. A little of his fear left him to be replaced with sympathy, and he touched her arm.

"Don't say that," he said firmly. "You might get out."

"Nobody leaves," she said hollowly. "And I will die here, and soon. I saw it, I remember everything I see about myself. For some reason...you'll be there. When I die. That's how I know you, why I feel I can speak to you-in a way we've already met." She gave him a small smile, which he didn't return.

"That's an unusual reason to trust someone," he pointed out.

"I felt your kindness," she said simply, shrugging. "And your lonliness and every feeling of every memory you own. I know to trust you."

"If I am there I won't let you die," he promised stonily. "I wouldn't do that."

"But you will. What happens must always happen," she said infuriatingly. Luke stared at her, aghast, before Dianne spoke.

"Let's go," she told him. "I said I'd get you to work as soon as possible." He remained sitting, and she took his arm cautiously. "It's not wise to stay with her, she's...she's mad."

"Only because I told you when you would die," she said coldly, then looked to Luke once more. "She comes here often, demands to know more. I can't remember, but apparently I told her she would die at the hand of the one who has stolen and kept life forever."

"It's all complete nonsense," Dianne said, struggling to keep a stiff upper lip. "Luke, come on. Quickly." Slowly, he got up, and was walking to the door when the alien girl called out again.

"I'm sorry," she called, and he half turned back.

"...for what?"

"For what will happen. Whatever I saw that made me so sad."

Without saying anything back, he stepped outside the cell and the door locked back into place. Although it had contained the messanger inside, nothing could keep the future at bay. And Luke wondered...if it really was his future she had seen...

He wondered if maybe he was going to die here too.

* * *

Sarah-Jane couldn't believe her luck. Out of all the UNIT soldiers she could have encountered, she got the young, bumbling idiot who was far too scared out of his wits to even think of putting up a fight.

"The main entrance is for cars and other vehicles, it leads straight to the car park," he told her nervously, as if he were afraid that she would tell him it wasn't good enough and shoot him. "There's one around the back that leads right to the main area, I'll take you to that one."

"Good. Thank you." A silence followed, and she could practically hear his teeth chattering. To make conversation and uncomfortable about the weapon in her hand, Sarah-Jane looked at the ID card she had stolen. "So, you're...'Simon Puddle'?"

"Actually it's pronounced 'Pudlee'," he said snappishly, Sarah-Jane obviously having hit a sore spot. "Pud_lee_."

"Puddle isn't that terrible anyway," Sarah-Jane said bracingly, and he looked even more miserable than before.

"It is if you wet yourself during a school play in primary school."

"Oh. Right."

"My whole school time was hell, and then I get here and now I'm about to die!" he wailed, and she hushed him quickly.

"You're not about to die!" she whispered, begin to think that being threatened by a braver soldier would be better than this. They reached the corner, and Sarah-Jane held up a hand to stop him. "Are there any security cameras?"

"No. Yes. I don't know!" he cried, and Sarah-Jane sighed wearily. "Wait-yes, on that pole by the fence!" Sarah-Jane nodded, pulled out her lipstick, and dived around the corner, spotting the camera immediately and zapping it so that it was deactivated with minor explosion.

"Simple," she said, turned back to Simon, who was staring at the sonic lipstick, open mouthed.

"What's that?"

"A sonic lipstick."

"Why is it a lipstick?" he asked.

"For disguise."

"Isn't it a bit of a giveaway when it glows and stuff?"

"It...well...never mind, just move!" Sarah-Jane said in irritation, and Simon remained quiet until they reached the single, battered looking green metal door. First, she used the card in what she guessed was a scanner for it. It bleeped as it accepted it (Simon jumped) then requested that they look into the camera on the left.

"Go on then," Sarah-Jane prompted Simon, who seemed likely to be living up to his last name once more at any moment as he stood in front of the tiny camera at eye level that would check for an intruder. After a worrying pause, a green light flashed below the tiny lense and the door clicked and clunked as it unlocked.

"_Access granted, _an autmomated voice said smoothly, and Sarah-Jane pushed open the door, motioning with one hand for Simon to follow.

"Can't I go now?" he whined.

"No, you're sticking with me," she whispered. "And keep your voice down!"

They went inside as stealthily as they could, Sarah-Jane keeping an eye out for any other guards, Simon keeping an eye on her gun, trotting after her anxiously. The room was enormous and airy, with a biting wind sweeping through it from the slits of windows high above them, beneath the roof. As well as being a disguised entrance, it seemed to be used as a storage area, as wooden crates were stacked all around the room, most with red warnings labelling them 'classified' or 'dangerous' stamped on them. Set in various spaces along the walls were a series of metal doors. The lifts.

Sarah-Jane was just hurrying over to them when she heard the familar bleeps and clicks of a door opening and, grabbing Simon by the back of his shirt, dragged them both behind a pile of the wooden crates. Breathing hard and keeping one hand on Simon's back so he was pressed right down against the floor, she dared to look over the top of the box.

A soldier, this one dressed in the full outfit from the khaki trousers right up to the red cap, had entered, and was glancing around the room carefully. Not wanting to risk being spotted, she dropped back down so she was fully hidden again, ignoring the whimpering Simon. After a minute or so, she heard the crackled of a communicator.

"Routine check complete-Area Two empty, returning to post," he said in a deep voice. "Repeat, routine check complete, returning to post." This was followed by the sound of heavy boots crossing the room, the sound of a door opening and closing, the slight slam echoing around until it faded back into quiet. Slumping in relief, Sarah-Jane hauled Simon back up, and ran over to the metal door with the number three on a small square of metal to the right of it. Knowing it wouldn't work but testing it anyway, she jabbed the button that would bring up the lift, but there was no sign of it working. Taking out her sonic lipstick she set to work on the panel in the wall, illuminating it the soft red light and wishing she knew more about things such as broken lifts. After succeeding in doing nothing other than causing a worrying whirring sound, she threw her gun carelessly onto one of the nearby crates with a clatter and set about examining the panel closely and taking readings with her watch, hoping that some magical informaion would come to light that would help her figure out how to work it. She wasn't sure how long she had been working before there was an all too recognisable clicking sound from somewhere behind her.

"Stop what you're doing." Now he held the weapon in his hand, Simon's voice had become demandingly authorative, although when she glanced over her shoulder to look at him she saw his hand was shaking as he held it. "I said...I said stop!" He said more loudly, his finger on the trigger. Ignoring him but mildly disgusted, Sarah-Jane turned back around to get back to what she was going.

"Did...did you hear me?" Simon asked in disbelief. "I'll shoot! It's my duty!"

"The funny thing is," Sarah-Jane said calmly withou looking at him, "I don't know which was worse-when you were a snivelling, whining coward or a coward holding a gun and pretending to be brave."

"I'll shoot you!"

"Oh, I know you will. Anything to save your own skin."

Trembling with rage rather than fear now, Simon's sweaty finger slipped slightly before finding and pressing down on the trigger.

But nothing happened.

"What..." He kept it pointed at the back of Sarah-Jane, repeatedly pressing the trigger but hearing nothing but some unsatisfactory clicks. "It's not loaded!"

"Of course it's not. I took the bullets out while you were unconcious," Sarah-Jane explained darkly. He frowned.

"But why would you do that?"

"Because I would never shoot," she snapped, finally facing him. "I wouldn't have needed them, and this way if you or anyone else got their hands on it, I would never be in any danger."

"I...but..." Simon trailed off, and simply stood awkwardly, the useless weapong hanging limply in his hand while he watched Sarah-Jane hack into the lift system.

* * *

Monica Hartman was sat at her desk, reading through files, when there was a frantic knocking on her office door. Without looking up, she saw her assistant answer it out of the corner of her eye.

"Ms Hartman?" She looked up to see one of the soldiers in the doorway.

"What is it? It had better be urgent," she warned. "You've interrupted my schedule."

"It is," he assured her. "We've found Martha Jones in a jammed lift that got stuck after the lock down, we're fighting to bring her down as we speak, but..."

"But?" Hartman said sharply, slamming down the files and standing.

"It's her. Sarah-Jane Smith, she's broken into the building up top. We saw her on the security camera inside, she's messing with one of the lift shafts. The same one that-"

"Jones is inside," Hartman guessed grimly. "Which guard was supposed to be checking Area Two?"

"Carlson, ma'am."

"Wipe his memory and sack him, as well as whoever was guarding the front gates. Send your men up to greet Miss Smith, and bring her to me. Bring Jones down, and lock her up until I decide what to do with her."

"Yes ma'am."

"And no alarms!" she shouted after him as she left, then smirked cruelly. "I want the element of surprise."


	19. Help

Martha was slumped against the cold metal wall of the lift in the blackness, feeling a crushing sense of defeat and guilt. There had been no word from Sarah-Jane, and she was almost certain she had been caught. She should never have asked for her help or encouraged her plans. As terrible as it may seem, deep down, Martha knew there was next to no hope for her son.

She looked up as there was a sudden grinding sound of metal from above her, then quickly recoiled as light flooded down and swamped the lift. Her eyes narrowed against the unexpected brightness, she shaded her eyes and attempted to see up the lift shaft, but couldn't.

"Martha?" Her hope burst back into life at the familar voice, and she leapt to her feat, a grin on her face.

"Sarah-Jane? Are you OK?" she shouted up the shaft, and was relieved to hear the response.

"I'm fine! Now quickly, we might not have much time-I'm trying, but I think the lift is deadlock sealed, I can't bring it up unless it reactivates. Is there anyway you can get out and climb?"

"There's a hatch above me, but it's locked!" Martha reached up and shook the metal grating. "I can't open it!"

"Hang on!" Martha heard a faint, oddly familar buzzing sound , and the padlock sprang open. Carefully, Martha pushed on the hatch, and could hardly believe it when she felt it give way under the pressure.

"How did you do that?"

"Sonic lipstick," Sarah-Jane called down casually, as if it were the most ordinary thing to have. "Now quickly!"

Martha flung the hatch open so hard and fast that it banged, the sound rebounding in the tiny space, and she was in the process of hauling herself up when the lift gave a sudden shudder and dropped a few inches with a horrible scraping sound.

"It's moving!" she shouted in terror as it shook violently and began to descend with a metallic screech. "They must be bringing it down!"

"I'll try and stop it-"

"You said you can't, just get out of here!"

"If it's working I might be able to bring it up, hold on!" There was the buzz of the sonic device again, and a shower of red sparks flew from the cable to right of her. A scream ripped from her throat as the lift began to freefall, before something caught it and it halted suddenly with enough force to release Martha's grip and send her crashing back down onto the floor, the hacth door falling back into place with a clang. The lift creaked and vibrated beneath her, the shaking steadily increasing like an earthquake, smoke beginning to appear as the cables fought against going both up and down. A whirring sound grew louder and louder until it was almost roaring, and Martha had just enough time to throw herself to the left as the control panel beside her exploded with a bang.

"GO!" she yelled, fearing that the cables would give out or the lift would blow, taking both of them with it.

"I'll get you up, I promise!"

Covering her face from the smoke, Martha drew up against one of the sides. The floor went oddly still, and she had barely enough time to panic before it suddenly and alarmingly swooped upwards. There was a jolt as it came to a halt, and the doors calmly slid open to reveal Sarah-Jane, who extended a hand to Martha. She took it gratefully and had only just ran out to safety when more sparks exploded violently and the lift dropped out of site, the cables whizzing down in a blurr as it shot down.

"Run!" she shouted, and together they legged it accross the room towards the door. But it opened before they reached it, and an army of soldiers swarmed in. Acting quickly Martha grabbed Sarah-Jane's hand and pulled her in the other direction to the other door that lead to the carpark, and in understanding Sarah-Jane produced a card from nowhere and unlocked it, pulling them through just in time as bullet pinged off the metal above them.

They found themselves in another warehouse-sized room, this one filled to bursting point with vehicles, an enormous gap in the wall leading directly outside with a wooden red and white striped barrier at the far wall.

Hearing the door blast open behind them, the two of them nodded quickly at each other and split up, Martha diving behind an army green truck and Sarah-Jane flinging herself beneath the car in front of her, painfully dragging herself forwards through the dirt with her elbows and making sure she was out of sight before the soldiers burst inside.

"Find them," one of them commanded, and from beneath the car's shadowy underbelly Sarah-Jane could see identical pairs of boots marching past as they peered through the windows of the cars. Sarah-Jane glanced down as her phone silently vibrated in her pocket, and pulled it out slowly, cupping it in her hands so the screen's light wouldn't give away her position. It was a text from Martha.

_Car directly in front of you. Ten seconds, on my signal. _

Struggling forwards so she was right at the front of the car, Sarah-Jane braced herself, preparing to get out and run.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four-_

Before she reached one a piercing car alarm erupted in the air, and taking her cue she rolled out from underneath the car and took advantage of the soldier's momentary distraction, running to the car in front of her, unlocking the doors as Martha tore towards her from her hiding place, the lights of the car she was hiding behind flashing like strobe lights in the stunned soldiers faces.

"SHOOT!" the commander bellowed, and gun shots exploded around them, pinging from the shells of the cars and bouncing to the concrete ground with a sound like metal rain.

Wrenching open the doors Martha slipped quickly into the driver's side and Sarah-Jane the passanger's, and had just shoved the key into the ignition when the back window exploded in a shatter of deady glass that blew out accross the back seat. Without bothering to trouble themselves with seatbelts, Martha slammed her foot down on the accelerator and the car shot forwards towards the barrier.

"What about Luke?" Sarah-Jane shouted, ducking in terror as another window was blasted into shards.

"We can't go back for him now," said Martha, who was stony faced and focused as they sped towards the solid wooden barrier that was rushing towards them at an alarming speed. "Later, but first we have to save ourselves! Brace yourself!"

Sarah-Jane threw her arm over her face as they collided and smashed straight through the barrier, leaving only splinters of wood behind. The car hurtled towards the main gates and the guard leapt out of the way in terror as it squealed to a halt and Martha leapt out. Before he could reach for his gun she had his arms pinned behind his back and slammed him against the gates, tearing out his gun and throwing it away.

"Sarah-Jane, the ID card, give it to me!" she yelled over her shoulder, and Sarah-Jane passed it over quickly. In a flash Martha had unlocked the gate, after practically smashing the guard's face into the camera before throwing him the floor.

"Thanks," she told the baffled guard, and clambered back into the car as the soldiers rushed out of the building, the sound of guns erupting all around them once more. Martha revved up the car as the double gates drifted open, then shot forwards before they were even finished, bullets still rebounding off the roof and doors of the car.

Soon they were deep in the surrounding forest, the splindly branches of trees clawing at and scraping against the windshield, larger ones pulling back and thwacking against the sides, leaves being ripped off on the jagged glass of the broken back window and littering the seat.

"So," Sarah-Jane said in an attempt at a normal voice, tossing the hair out of her eyes. "Where are we going?"

"My flat," Martha said, then frowned. "No. They might look for us there...we'll find a hotel."

"But we have to go back!" Sarah-Jane said in disbelief, gesturing behind them angrily. "The whole point of this was to save Luke, I'm not going to just stay in a hotel!"

"You saw it back there, we need back up," Martha decided stubbornly. "I'm sorry, but we have to get to a place we can make plans."

"Back up? Unless you have your own private army I doubt 'back up' will make any difference."

"I've got some friends I can call." Martha glanced over and saw Sarah-Jane still looked doubtful. "Trust me." Sarah-Jane stared at her thoughtfully, before reaching behind her and pulling down her seatbelt, nodding at Martha.

"OK."

* * *

"I haven't got my seatbelt on! CHRISSIE! Slow down a minute, I haven't got my seatbelt on!" In a panic Alan fumbled with the seatbelt of Chrissie's car, the houses and gardens on either side of them whizzing past sickeningly in a blurr of brown and green. "This is a thirty miles per hour zone!"

"Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, I'm barely over!"

"YOU'RE ALMOST DOUBLE IT!"

Chrissie's car jerked around her a corner and sped down the road like a bullet, and Alan genuinely feared for his life and clung tightly to the edge of the seat, his nails digging into the leather.

"CHRISSIE! Pull over, right now! STOP!"

"The faster I go, the faster I can get to Maria!"

After Maria had hung up on her, Chrissie had flown into a furious rant, and before Alan could stop her she had run outside accross the gravel to her shiny car. Alan had quickly got in after her, but now as he hurtled towards would would surely be a brutal death on Bannerman Road (for him or Maria, he wasn't sure) he was strongly regretting his decision.

"We'll be arrested!" he shouted over the roaring engine and tires, but Chrissie stared ahead, focused and determined with both hands tightly clenching the wheel. "All those times I said you were mad, I never really believed it until now! PULL OVER!"

"How could you?" she yelled, snapping and glancing over at him. "I'm not stupid, Alan! Why are you both really here?"

"We-"

"The truth! For ONCE tell me the truth!" she shouted, the wind from the open roof blowing her startlingly blonde hair around her face as she looked at him-not angrily-but pleadingly.

"I can't." Alan didn't know if she could even hear his quiet voice, but she seemed to guess.

"I know it anyway!" she yelled, the entire car tilting worryingly as they violently rounded a corner. "I know about everything, I REMEMBER!"

"...What?" Alan's blood ran cold and froze into ice in his heart, stopping it dead.

"About her! About that Sarah-Jane!" Chrissie screeched."I let it go, for Maria's sake and for yours, because you were going to America! You brought her back! You told me you were busy at work over Christmas, this isn't a passing trip! And what you said on the phone, how she sounded! There's something going on, WHY DID YOU BRING HER BACK? IT'S HER, ISN'T IT?"

"No, it's more than that, Chrissie please-" Alan cut off as the car squealed to a halt on the icy road, and he saw that they were outside Sarah-Jane's house. The engine still rumbling, Chrissie got out, a fierce look locked on her face. "Chrissie, please, please don't!"

"Oi!" she bellowed at the top of her lungs, marching over to the house. "Maria! SMITH!"

Alan was just fumbling with the car door when Clyde ran out onto the road, looking stunned.

"What-"

"Where is she?" Chrissie interrupted loudly, standing almost nose to nose with him threateningly. "Where's my daughter?"

"I don't-"

"Oh, don't you even bother!" she snapped, stomping straight past him and approaching the house. Looking alarmed, Clyde ran after her, Alan following as soon as he had left the car.

"You can't go in there!" Clyde told her in panic. "Mrs Jackson..." His voice faded into nothing as they reached the destroyed front door, and Chrissie frowned as glass and wood crunched under her foot.

"What on Earth...?" She whirled to face Alan and Clyde, her expression terrifyingly fiery. "Where. Is. MARIA?"

* * *

Rani and Maria were walking in silence up Bannerman Road, when Maria suddenly halted, Rani nearly slamming into her.

"There's a car parked outside Sarah-Jane's," she said fearfully.

"Well, it's definitely not UNIT," Rani said, taking in the glossy red shine of the sleek vehicle. If anything, Maria looked even more petrified.

"Oh, please no-"

"_MARIA_!" The shout could be heard faintly from the house, and after sharing a quick glance Maria and Rani headed towards it at a run, finding a shell-shocked looking Clyde and Alan standing at the door to the house.

"Who are you?" Rani asked Alan suspiciously, who raised his eyebrows.

"I could ask you the same."

"Mum!" Maria dashed into the house and yelled up the stairs of Chrissie's retreating back. For the first time in her life, Chrissie actually listened, and stopped halfway up the stairs before stomping down to her.

"Tell me what's going on!" she commanded before Maria had a chance to speak. "You're back from America, no hotel booked, hanging up on me, the door's smashed in!" She gestured angrily at the shards, and Maria stared at the floor. "Well? WELL?"

"Just leave it, Chrissie," Alan said quietly.

"I deserve an explanation!" she snapped, turning on him.

"Not now. Not today-"

"No!" Chrissie laughed hysterically. "I let it slide last time with that stupid potato thing, but not now!"

"Oh God," Clyde groaned, covering his face with his hands. "She remembers?"

"Who's she, the cat's mother?" Chrissie shouted, then grabbed Maria's arm and forced her to look at him. "The truth. Now, young lady!"

"Now? You want to do this _now_?" Clyde asked angrily in disbelief.

"Yes! Maria, you-"

"Fine!" Maria shouted suddenly, tugging herself out of her mother's grip. "Luke's gone!"

"Gone? What does that mean, _'gone'_?"

"He was taken by UNIT, somewhere...horrible, and I came back for him."

"What's UNIT?"

"Unified Intelligance Taskforce," Clyde said darkly, and Chrissie turned her head to look at him, confusion on her face. "They protect the world from aliens and stuff."

"Aliens?" Chrissie looked back at Maria, her eyes wide. "Oh my God...is that...is that Luke an alien?"

"No!"

"I just KNEW he was odd, didn't I say, Alan? I said so all along-"

"Don't you understand? They're going to KILL him!" Maria screamed, pushing her mother further away from her and backing off until she was beside Clyde and Rani. "We're getting him back, we have to save him!"

"This is...this is madness," Chrissie said, her anger slipping away and fear replacing it. "You're just a kid, Maria!"

"So is he!" she cried, tears brimming in her eyes. "I said he could rely on me, I promised!"

"But if these people have taken him, maybe they know best," Chrissie said more gently, but Maria shook her head, looking repulsed.

"No. He wouldn't hurt anyone, I know he wouldn't." Turning away stubbornly, she looked from Rani to Clyde. "We have to go to him. Now. Kelsey couldn't tell us anything, I'll explain later. Do you have the map to the prison from Mr Smith?" she asked Clyde. Chrissie looked furious again.

"What map?" she demanded, but Maria ignored her, refusing to look her in the eye.

"Yeah," Clyde said. "In my bag. But how will we get there? We can't exactly walk."

"Get to where?"

They continued to ignore Chrissie.

"Bus?" Rani suggested half-heartedly, and Maria gave her a scathing look.

"Oh yeah, let's just hop on the twelve-forty five bus to the top secret UNIT prison."

"All right, forget the bus then!" Rani snapped. "What do you suggest?"

"...Bikes?" Clyde offered, and they both shot him equally exasperated looks. "OK, not bikes."

"Maria-"

"Shut up!" Maria burst out as Chrissie spoke once again, and closed her eyes in irritation, trying to block her out. "Just...shut up!"

"No, it's just...I have a car." Now everyone gave her their full attention as she stood awkwardly, twisting the jeweled bracelet on her wrist. "I could take you there. If you really want to go."

"...You'd do that for me?" Maria asked, looking completely blank and unable to take in Chrissie's sudden reasonable attitude.

"Of course," she breathed, walking over and holding both her arms. "As much as I hate it, I know you'll be miserable if you don't try. I couldn't bear that, and at...at least if I'm with you...you'll be safe."

This touching moment was slightly ruined by Clyde's snort.

"I...thanks, I suppose," Maria mumbled, looking slightly abashed.

"Right!" Chrissie said, clapping her hands together and taking charge. "When do we leave?"

"Um, now, I guess," Clyde said, taken aback as she swept past him and outside.

"Come on then!"

Clyde, Maria and Rani squished into the plush backseat, and Chrissie was about to get into the driver's seat when Alan grabbed her hand.

"No. I'm driving."

* * *

Miles away from where Maria's parents, Maria, Clyde and Rani were setting off on the long journey ahead, Sarah-Jane was already within reach of her son, but forced to remain hidden and waiting until he could be successfully saved. It was torture.

She sat on the knitted red blanket on top of the small, rickety wooden bed in the Bed and Breakfast, her head resting forlornly against the grubby cream wall. The thin curtains were drawn, but the weak winter sunlight forced its way through, casting shadows over the dingy little room.

The door clicked and opened as Martha entered, coughing to get Sarah-Jane's attention before closing the door softly behind her.

"I paid," she said lightly. Sarah-Jane said nothing. "It's only for a bit. Not even a night, just while we wait for help."

"You called 'help' an hour ago," Sarah-Jane said miserably, then sat up straighter and put her head in her hands. "He could have been dead in that hour."

"Some of them had to come from quite a long way," Martha said, moving over to sit on the bed opposite Sarah-Jane's. Pointedly, she switched on the bedside lamp so the gaudy light softly lit the room through the rather disgusting frilly pink lampshade. "They'll be here as soon as they can, I told them to hurry."

Before the words fully passed her lips, a knock sounded at the door, and both of their heads snapped towards it. Slowly, Martha got up from her perch on the bed and crept over to the door. When she reached it she hesitated, then pressed down the handle and opened it a crack, peering through the gap cautiously. Then suddenly she grinned and stepped back, allowing whoever was on the other side of the door to fully push open the door.

As she saw him, Sarah-Jane stood up and walked forwards to join Martha, a tiny feeling of hope blossoming in her chest. The man walked in confidently, shrugging off his coat and flinging it onto Martha's vacated bed.

"Thanks for coming," Martha said gratefully.

"Two lovely ladies calling me over to meet them at a Bed and Breakfast?" Captain's Jack's face split into a dazzling grin. "How could I say no?"


	20. Hope

"So," Jack said cheerfully, making himself at home and sitting himself down on the bed, bouncing slightly on the creaky springs. "Nice place you picked. You do know there's a toilet seat in the front garden?"

"We're on the run from UNIT," Martha reminded him. "We're weren't exactly in a position to be choosy."

"I can see that." Jack turned to Sarah-Jane and winked. "Good to see you-you're looking younger every day."

"I'm not exactly in the mood for flirting," she snapped, and he raised his eyebrows. "My son's been kidnapped by UNIT."

"About that," he said, leaning back against the bed's squashy pink pillows and pulling a gun from his pocket, twirling it around in his hands like a baton. "Is it going to be just us going in, or...?"

"No, I've called some contacts of mine," Martha said, then hurried over and grabbed his wrist. "Stop it."

"Come on, I'm not going to shoot it," he said, giving her a mock wave with the gun. "And even if it did go off, no one would hear. That old crone running this place is deaf as a post, took me ten minutes just to find out what room you were in."

"Do you feel better when you're holding a gun in your hand?" Sarah-Jane asked, eyeing it coldly. "Safer?"

"Well, yeah, as it happens," Jack said, shrugging indifferently. "Don't you?"

"The Doctor doesn't like guns, and neither do I."

"Speaking of the Doctor, have you got in touch with him?" Jack asked in what was clearly meant to be a casual voice, but didn't quite conceal his obvious hope.

"I've tried," Sarah-Jane said shortly. "He didn't answer his phone."

"Keep trying," Jack advised. "Phone him, text him, email him, send a carrier pidgeon-just get him down here."

"Easier said than done," Martha muttered, before the door burst open, causing them all to jump. Jack immediately raised his gun at the intruder, who's hands flew into the air in panic.

"Don't shoot, it's me! I swear! I mean, obviously I'm me, it's my face but... but if you thought I was thingy, a...a...Slitheen or something...don't shoot!"

"Mickey!" Martha hissed, grabbing the stammering Mickey smith by the elbow and pulling him further inside then shutting the door. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

"You said it was urgent!"

"Yes, but Jack could have shot you!"

"I didn't know that, did I?" Mickey coughed and tugged down his leather jacket, before nodding at Sarah-Jane.

"Nice to see you again."

"And you," she replied shortly. "Thanks for this."

"Don't mention it. I figured that since-"

"What's with the jacket?" Martha demanded to know suddenly, looking him over. "It's leather. I've never seen you wear leather."

"Maybe I like leather," he sniffed, struggling as usual to keep a hold of his dignity. "I think it looks cool."

"Mickey," Jack said, sitting forwards and looking at him seriously. "Believe me when I say this-nothing you will ever wear will have the ability to make you cool."

"At least I don't look like I've just walked out of a parallel universe that's a cross between World War Two and a farm in Oklahoma!"

"Ooh, ouch," Jack said sarcastically, then paused and added slyly, "Would you rather I took my clothes off?"

"Jack!" Martha snapped, and he smirked at her. "Remember why you're here. Focus?"

"I'm so confident we'll get Sarah's son back I don't _need_ to focus," he boasted, and mimed shooting with his gun. "I could take out those UNIT boneheads with my eyes closed."

"Unfortunately for us, you can't knock out a dozen UNIT soldiers with your ego," Martha said, then raised her arm to check the digital watch on her wrist. "Not long now. The others should be here soon."

"Right. Is there a kitchen in this place?" Everyone looked at Jack in complete disbelief, and he shrugged. "I need an energy boost. Also, I have a sudden craving for a cheese and pickle sandwich."

"We can use the one downstairs. There's a big sign on the door saying 'kitchen'-even you can't miss it."

Jack left on a quest to reach his sandwich, giving Sarah-Jane what was clearly intended to be a reassuring wink before he did so. There was a strangely tense silence after he had gone, and Sarah-Jane got up and headed towards the bathroom.

"Where are you going?" Mickey asked quickly, trying mindlessly to break through the silence. Martha nudged him furiously. "Oh. Right. Sorry."

After she had disappeared inside the poky little bathroom, Martha instantly left Mickey's side, hurrying over to where Jack's coat lay and picking it up off the bed. Mickey watched her, then rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.

"Um-"

"Don't," she interrupted sharply before he even began. "Just don't."

"You don't even known what I'm going to say."

"Yes, I do." Martha put her back to him as she busied herself with hanging up and smoothing down Jack's coat on the hook jutting out from the door. "Drop it."

"But..." Mickey lowered his voice. "That night, it had to mean something-"

"No," Martha said, whipping around the face him, her arms folded. "It meant nothing, Mickey. I was drunk. You were drunk. It's nothing to me. No, worse than that-it was a mistake." The memory was hazy, but she could remember the bar, the pulsating, earsplitting music and the tinkering of glasses as bodies danced around them. They were taking a well-earned break after a successful mission together, that was all. But as glass after glass was downed, Martha's reason gradually began to disappear until she was a giggling, smitten mess. She remembered sidling up to Mickey...she knew she shouldn't, she knew what had happened last time...

She couldn't keep loving them. Not that way. Second-hand from Rose.

She had kissed him. Let her defences drop and her love run wild in the heat and passion of the moment. But it was wrong, so wrong. She had clawed her way out of that bear trap with the Doctor, and now she had walked straight back into its jaws with someone else.

"No," Mickey said, looking wounded. "No, I know it was more-"

"It wasn't. And it's..." Martha breathed in, a familar stabbing pain in her gut as she thought of him. "It's too soon. After Tom."

Her happiness after helping save the Earth from the Daleks had been cruelly short-lived. Because while she had been fighting up above, Thomas Milligan had been battling on the Earth below. To most others, he was nothing special. Just another who was exterminated. But it broke Martha's heart; he had died all over again, and this time he could never come back. They had never reached the wedding date, but she felt like a widow all the same.

"But it's more than that!" Mickey snapped, stomping over to her and pointing a finger at her accusingly. Her eyes were hard as she looked back at him, clearly seething. But he still saw something else, a tiny, revealing glimmer of regret that he clung to with everything he had. "You act like...like you hate my guts! What's wrong with me?"

"Mickey," Martha said more softly, rubbing her forehead wearily. "I don't hate you. It's just never going to happen. Not now, not in a year. Not you."

"Why not? What have I done? I can change!"

"You can't-"

"Why won't you just admit that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you?"

"Because you loved Rose Tyler!" Martha shouted, tears springing to her eyes. Mickey stopped in his tracks and so did she, realising what she just said.

"But...that's ancient history!" he protested, but Martha only shook her head and walked past him swiftly. "Martha!"

"I'm going to find Jack," was all she said bluntly, before stepping out of the room, slamming the door behind her so forcefully that the coat hanging from the back fell off the hook and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Mickey stood, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides, staring at the back of the door, then down at the coat. It took a few moments for the burning feeling of corrosive sadness and anger to trickle into his veins, and when it did, he let out a shout of frustration and delivered as a hard a kick as he could muster to the bedside table nearest him. It was too much for the cheap, age softened wood, and there was a pathetic crunch and a crack before the wood splintered and collapsed on the left hand side.

"Oh, for..." Mickey swore loudly then sat down heavily onto one of the beds. He pulled off his jacket and lobbed it accross the room, where it hit the lamp and knocked it to the floor. Because he was just that lucky, the bulb smashed and, just like Martha's rejection, made the room seem that much more bleak.

Mickey still blamed him. Even once you left the Doctor's side and escaped, you were never rid of him. He left wounds that became scars that couldn't be shifted, and memories that turned into dreams that turned into nightmares. He affected everyone in different ways. For some it was contempt that couldn't be purged. For some it was crushing sadness that he was gone. For some it was regret, a desperate need to wipe all they had seen from their minds and their life, either because it was too terrible or too brilliant for ordinary life ever to have meaning again.

The worst was hope.

He had seen it in Rose when she had been trapped with him on that parallel Earth, her idea of hell. For the first few months she had foolishly nurtured that hope that he would come for her and save her again. Those left behind always had the fear or the hope that one day they would hear that funny sound, see that bright blue box appear to whisk them away. Until they died.

A few moments of absolute privilege, seeing the stars and times that were long dead. But those who had reached the end of those days knew...

It left your life polluted beyond repair.

* * *

"I want you to watch and listen carefully, and note down everything that happens. Do you understand?"

Luke stood watching Dianne as she prepared monitors and various other pieces of equipment in the room, the seat in the middle with metal bindings attatched the prominent and ominous feature.

"Haven't you done this before?" he asked her nervously as she pressed a small notepad and pen into his hands.

"Yes, but never with any good results. All she tells us are silly, pointless things, like whether or not it will rain in three years time next Tuesday. We want to show you, explain the process so that you can find a way to harness the power."

"Why?"

"Imagine if UNIT could see everything coming," Dianne said, sounding awe inspired despite herself. "Every possible threat, every alien, anything they wanted."

"But it could be used for others things," Luke pointed out. "Potentially, it could tell you anything you wanted to know."

"It won't happen, and even if it did-"

"It would be bad," Luke said, and Dianne stopped what she was doing and faced him, looking concerned at his certainty.

"Why do you say that?"

"Imagine you could see your whole life ahead, didn't like it and tried to change it."

"Surely that would be an advantage?"

"No. You can't change it, you mustn't. It would tear things apart. Is UNIT really worth that risk?" Luke asked, and she shrugged a shoulder.

"It's not my place to say."

"It doesn't mean you can't."

"Go and fetch her from the storage cells," Dianne said, ignoring his comment and going back to her work. She put a hand in her coat pocket and pulled out a pair of silver handcuffs that she slid accross the countertop to him. "Now."

He thought about refusing, then remembered the ever-constant device on his wrist that could activate if he dared to disobey.

Nobody seemed nervous when he walked through the lab unnacompanied, despite Hartman's insistance that the world should see him as dangerous and regard him with nothing but contempt and disgust. Either these people were smart enough to see that wasn't true, or knew he was defenceless and his life was their's to take. The latter was, unfortunately, what reason told him was most likely.

When he reached her cell she had her back to him, and after wondering whether or not he should, he knocked lightly on the glass. She glanced around, her mouth curling in obvious amusement.

"You're different," she said simply after he had opened the door and entered. "You do and say things in such an odd way." It wasn't an insult, just a truthful observation.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to," he said anxiously, and she threw her head as she erupted suddenly with loud laughter that made him jump.

"No," she chuckled. "That's good. I dislike people who behave in the usual way around me. They don't talk to me or give me any thought. They're so afraid it's rude. But you aren't, are you?"

"I'm a prisoner too," he said, and she nodded.

"I know. But even then, you don't have to be so considerate. It almost makes up for the fact that you're taking me to my death."

Their eyes met, and Luke saw no fear in hers. She was resigned to it. But that didn't mean he had to be.

"No," he said, trying to keep his voice reassuring. "No, it's not-" He stopped as she grabbed his hand tightly.

"It is," she said, urgency in her voice for him to understand. "I can feel it. And that's OK." She spotted the handcuffs in his hand. "Those are for me, I take it?"

"I-"

"Don't apologise. It's not your fault. In fact..." She carefully eased them from his hands and put them on her own, holding them out for him to lock. "Go on." Feeling guilty despite her optimism, he did, and she stood up and left the cell before he did. "Let's get this over with."

For the entire short walk to where Dianne was waiting, Luke was trying and failing to shake the unpleasant feeling of being an executioner, while the person who believed him to be taking her to her death was surprisingly chatty.

"I lived on Earth my whole life, you know," she told him cheerfully, but he didn't dare open his mouth to reply, feeling he might be sick if he did. "In the city. It seems like another life, now. Like it was someone else's. I can't even remember by name-I was taken when I was young, and it's like the more I see of the future the less I remember. I think it began with an 'L'...Lucy? Or Lily. I like Lily best, I think. Call me that. I knew I was weird, but I never expected UNIT to appear one night, slaughter my family and lock me away. Of course, they weren't really my parents. Turns out I was adopted and my parents were probably aliens. How about that?"

Luke didn't say anything-even if he could speak he wouldn't know what to say.

"You look a bit pale. I'm the one who's about to die, not you. Anyway, the thing that really gets me is that I look human. I always imaged aliens as green things with big, creepy eyes, like in films. I suppose that sounds stupid."

"No," Luke muttered, and she smiled at him.

"I've seen more aliens since I've been here. They're all so different, but I've never met another one who looks human before." It took Luke a few moments to realise that she meant him.

"I'm not an alien, I'm human," he said fiercely, and she raised her eyebrows at his defencive tone.

"Calm down, I wouldn't mind if you were. I am, remember?"

"I don't want people to think I'm an alien, I want them to think I'm human. I am human."

"...are you trying to convince me or yourself?" she asked solemnly. He didn't answer her, and they walked the rest of the way in complete silence. Luke wasn't sure if he liked her-Lily- or not. The questions unsettled him, and the way she accepted her iminent death was so unusual that it frightened him in a funny sort of way. He knew more than anyone that you shouldn't judge a person simply because they were different, but he couldn't stop himself feeling wary of her.

When they reached the room, Luke watched quietly as Dianne hooked Lily up to various things. She had closed her eyes, and was mumbling something to herself. It sounded like a song, but he didn't recognise it.

"There," Dianne said as she plugged in one last machine. "All wired up." She flashed Lily a reassuring smile, which she didn't return.

"I'm not going to tell you this time either," she said coldly, and Dianne's smile faltered. "I've told you-I can't see what you tell me to. I can't see your death, and I can't do anything for UNIT."

"We'll soon change that-"

"I definitely can't do anything when I'm dead."

Two more lab workers entered, and Lily stared an awkward looking Dianne down. All of a sudden Luke felt surrounded, and his heart rate rose as the pressure got to him, the tiny room suddenly feeling even more cramped and stuffy.

"I don't think you should do this," he said, but they paid no attention to him. "Really," he said, his panic jumping. "You shouldn't."

"Luke, please be quiet," Dianne snapped. One of the others glanced at her.

"Shock him if he's being any trouble," he said casually. "You don't need to hesitate." Dianne's hand dropped to the pocket of her white coat where she held the remote that could hurt or kill Luke in an instant, and she touched it lightly before whipping her hand away as though electrecuted herself. The movement wasn't missed by Luke, who involuntarily flinched and backed against a wall.

He could only watch as the lab workers moved too quickly, switching on things too fast. It was like helplessly watching a speeding car flash past towards someone standing stock still in the middle of the road.

The sound of a heart moniter filled the room as one of the screens lit up with zig-zag lines, and other machine beeps and whirrs joined it to create a sinister drone. Then there was something else-the sound of a generator charging.

"What...what are you doing?" he dared to ask, and Lily smiled ruefully, resting her head back against the chair as Dianne answered.

"We found out a while back that sending a strong electrical charge through her body can stimulate the sight into the future," she said factually, with no trace of sympathy or emotion now that her collegues had arrived. Luke knew she cared-but also too frightened for herself and her job to take a stand.

"You can't do that," he said heatedly. "You can't do that, you can't!"

"Just note down what happens," she said levelly. "That's all I want you to do, nothing else."

"No! You want me to help you, I won't help you with this!"

"I order you to remain quiet and do as you're told!" she snapped, and he felt shock shake his bones. Her face twitched, and she cleared her throat. "Please. Please just...do as we say."

Luke didn't have the time to press the matter, as at that moment the process was started and Lily jerked forwards in her seat, locked in by the restraints and biting back a scream as the charge ripped through her.

"Look ahead," Dianne told her keenly, leaving Luke's side and hurrying over to her. "See UNIT's future, see what they'll encounter. Any enemies or situations."

"I've told you," she gasped, slumping back as the shocking temporarily ceased. "I can't, it doesn't work like that-" Her next words were sliced by her scream of agony as the torture started again, and Luke ran forwards, ignoring the yells from the other workers.

"Stop it!" he shouted, scrabbling desperately with the metal restraints that clamped down her tightly clenched hands before someone grabbed him and pulled him away. "Leave her alone!"

"For God's sake, someone get him out of here!" the lab worker snapped angrily. "Dianne!"

"...Leave him," Lily panted, trembling as the electricity died down again briefly. "Don't...leave him-" Her body jarred again and this time it was Luke who screamed while she remained silent. He froze in the lab worker's constricting arms, watching as a soft golden glow appeared and her eyes snapped open, seeming to be filled with fire as well as tears that glistened in the new light.

"What can you see?" Dianne asked her in a whisper that was both horrified and incredulous. "UNIT?"

"Leave him," she replied throatily, staring right through Dianna blindly, who frowned.

"...What?" she glanced at Luke, and the lab worker holding him released his grip. Luke couldn't have ran even if he wanted to, paralysed with shock and terror. "We've let him go. Just...focus on what you can see-"

"Leave him," she said again, her voice sounding deep and almost robotic as it shuddered unnaturally, the flames still glowing in her eyes. "Leave them."

"Them? Who?" Dianne asked urgently, but she didn't seem to be able to hear.

"There's love," she breathed, a tear rolling down her cheek. "But there's fear, so much fear...because of her, because of UNIT...death, both...dead..."

"Who?" Dianne said again, her face whitening. The others in the room seemed too stunned to move, and Luke took his chance to approach her and grab her hand.

"It's OK," he said, then leapt back as she turned to look straight at him. But it wasn't her anymore. It was as though something was looking into his soul, trespassing and leaving footprints where no one should ever tread. Everything about this 'gift' she had was so wrong. No one should ever have that power.

"You," she whispered hoarsely, and his heart thudded like a frantic, ominous drumbeat that built up to...what? "It's you...both dead..."

"Both?" Luke panicked, grabbing her hand again. "Both? Who's both? Lily?"

"But...no, there's something else..." She tensed suddenly, a cry ripping from her throat as a painful sound. "That's impossible! It can't!"

"What is it?" Luke whipped around to the stupified, open-mouthed Dianne. "Do something!"

"No," Lily breathed shakily, her entire body trembling. Luke felt the hand he was holding steadily heat until it was burning impossibly hot, and looking down he saw what looked like molten fire bubbling in her veins under the skin like lava. "There's two...two futures-" Her chilling words finished with a screech, and Luke found himself shoved out of the way as she shuddered with another charge.

"It's killing her! STOP!" he yelled, darting forwards and wrestling with the man causing it. He quickly found himself pushed backwards into a wall, his head slamming against it and stars erupting behind his eyes. Even as he regained his balance and stumbled forwards, determined to stop them, the beeps that registered her heart beats increased rapidly, and suddenly there was a blast of fiery golden light that somehow held a force that had the power to throw him backwards accross the room to smash into a counter before crashing to the ground, broken glass from the vials he had smashed raining down on him.

The still, cold calm came as quickly as the violent explosion of fire, and Luke pushed himself up into a sitting position, the room spinning so the colours smudged to be dotted here and there with odd, glittering specks like stars. There was a sharp, stinging pain somewhere near his right temple, and he raised his hand and lightly touched it. Pain flared immediately and he flinched, whipping his hand away, startled to see the crimson blood dripping from his fingertips. He must have cut it on the glass.

The room gradually stopped whirling around, and Luke saw that the causes of the glittering were the fractures of glass that patterned the floor around him and were spread around the room's tiled floor. Dianne was just propping herself up on her elbow nearby, dust-like particles of glass sparkling in her wild hair. Her eyes were wide and glazed with terror as she looked around as he was, and upon seeing one of her colleagues unconscious on the other side of the room she rapidly crawled over on her knees to check his vital signs.

Luke was beginning to recover from the shock when the horrible whine of a machine reached his ears, seeming to grow louder and louder as his horror grew. Ignoring the glass that skitted accross the floor as he scrambled upright, he walked over to where Lily sat, limp but propped up in the chair by the binds that hadn't been broken even by the explosion of energy. The skin that had glowed just minutes ago was now a dull grey, and the lips that had formed a thanks for his consideration and uttered such a chilling prophecy lay partially opened in the aftermath of a scream. Reaching out, he felt the icy touch of her hand, and his sight was blurred by tears as he turned to the screen beside him, able to make out the harsh brightness of the straight green line that told him what he had known since the awful whine had become apparent. The flatline.

She was dead.

* * *

Agonisingly close by, just a few miles away, Sarah-Jane was locked in the grimy bathroom of the Bed and Breakfast. The garish pink tiles on the floor were old and cracked, and a light layer of dust coated the edge of the stained sink. The paint on the once white walls was grey and peeling, some tiny fragments giving up on clinging on and drifting to the ground like dandruff.

She sat on the edge of the bath, her tears shining in the weak orange lamplight. Her phone was pressed to her ear, and she took a deep breath as she prepared to leave another cry for help.

"...Please help us," she said in as hard a voice as she could. No matter how bad things got, she wouldn't let him hear her cry. She wasn't weak. "I met up with Martha Jones, and we're staying in a Bed and Breakfast while we gather some people together. Jack and Mickey are already here, but...we need you. I need you. They've got my son," she said, a sob breaking free before she crushed it quickly, pausing before she continued. "UNIT...I don't know if we can do it on our own, and if we fail at least you'll get this message. It might not be too late. I need you. Please."

The message ended, and Sarah-Jane clenched the phone in her hands tightly as she held them in her lap. She remembered Luke doing a similar thing when Maria had left and flown away to America, leaving him behind. It might make someone feel close, but they weren't.

And maybe the Doctor wasn't coming. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he was dead. Maybe Luke was too.

The phone in her hands didn't vibrate, and there was no sound other than the steady dripping from the leaky taps. A cry built in Sarah-Jane's throat, but she couldn't release it and her eyes stayed dry with no prickling tears. There was just a terrible, hollow feeling of defeat like a blackhole inside her, getting bigger and bigger until eventually it would swallow her up completely in the dark.


	21. Hurry

The wintery sky hanging over the stretch of desolate, dusty road had darkened, and the moonlight glinted off the shining red sides of Chrissie's stationary car. Chrissie and Alan were standing outside of it, Chrissie yelling at Alan as he tried to figure out where they were on the map and where the nearest petrol station was. Maria was now sitting in the front seat, her head resting against the dashboard. Rani and Clyde were still in the back, shivering against the cold.

"OK," Clyde said, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to try and generate some much needed heat. "We're lost in the middle of nowhere. We're running out of petrol. It's FREEZING because we're in a stupid car that has no roof. And now we're in the middle of a domestic!" Right on cue, Chrissie snatched the map from Alan's hand and hit him on the arm with it before furiously turning it upside down as if that would help, all while telling him how much of an idiot he was.

"Seriously, who drives a car with no roof in the middle of winter?" Rani asked, her arms folded in the face of the wind.

"My mum," Maria could just about be heard to mumble miserably from the front seat, her face still pressed against the dashboard. Clyde turned to Rani, wo was now unable to stop shaking. Reluctantly, he shrugged off his jacket and passed it to her.

"Here," he said. "Take it."

"Quite the gentleman, Clyde, but I'm fine," Rani said, zipping up her own coat even further stubbornly. "You need it just as much as me. I'm a girl, it doesn't mean I'm weak."

"Maybe I'm strong, then. Really, I don't need it." Clyde threw the jacket onto her lap, and after a sighing she put it on. She looked up from doing up the zip at Clyde, and for a moment their eyes met and they felt everything they tried so hard to repress. Then the icy wind picked up and blew a few strands of glossy black hair over Rani's face, and her movement as she brushed them away broke the spell. Clyde swallowed, then drew on his trusty old impish grin to lighten the mood. "See? That wasn't so hard. And anyway, the sound of your teeth chattering was driving me mad."

"We've been sat here for ages," Maria groaned, sitting up, looking exhausted. "If we don't get moving soon I'll get out and walk."

"Well, if your mum and dad would stop fighting for just one second..." Rani muttered, and Maria looked like she wanted to throttle her, while Clyde once again reverted into a state of denial at what was happening. "I can only imagine would sort of chaos it is at your house."

"Actually, they're divorced," Maria said, and a frosty silence followed her comment that Clyde couldn't bear. Without saying a word incase he accidently set off a cat fight, he let himself out of the car and went to join Alan, who was leaning against the boot and watching Chrissie pace a few yards away while reading from the map.

"I can't deal with it in there," Clyde said to him, gesturing back at the car. "Maria and Rani won't stop fighting with each other. If I even open my mouth they either blank me or have a go at me too!"

"Story of my life," Alan sighed.

"Alan!" Chrissie shrieked, waving the map in the air. "I think I know where we are! Alan!"

"I'm being summoned," Alan muttered to Clyde out of the corner of his mouth, then waved dejectedly to Chrissie and walked over.

They did eventually figure out where they were after much shouting on Chrissie's part and much sighing on Alan's. Managing to force the car to drive for a little longer on the tiny amount of fuel it had, they reached a remote petrol station. It was completely dark now, and the only light came from the moon and the cheap, flickering orange lights under the cover of the petrol station. They parked on the square of concrete dotted with inky puddles of leaked oil, the smell of fumes overpowering and acidic, the hissing of various machinery filling the air.

"Again," Clyde said, wrinkling his nose at the smell. "Open topped car."

"Suffer for style," Chrissie said wisely. "Alan, get out and put the petrol in. Oh, and go to that shop would you," she added, nodding at the grubby little building ahead that joined the station. "Get me chocolate."

"Why do I have to do it?"

"I can go to the shop," Clyde said eagerly, practically leaping out of the car, desperate to get away from Maria and Rani and the freezing air. He tugged a crumpled ten-pound note from the pocket of his school trousers (he was still wearing his uniform from that morning) and held it up. "I'll get rations. So..." He pointed at Chrissie, who was putting on lipstick in the rear-view mirror while Maria watched her in disbelief. "Cadbury's?" She nodded, unable to speak while she carefully painted her pursed lips. Clyde turned to Maria. "And you?"

"Nothing," she said glumly, then paused. "Better get a few bottles of water though."

"Got it. Mr Jackson?"

"Bread." Everyone stopped and stared at him strangely, and he looked defensive. "Well, if Chrissie doesn't stop giving 'directions' we could get lost again. And who knows how long we could be stuck out here?"

Chrissie stopped touching up her make-up long enough to whack him with the rolled up map again.

"Right, so...Cadbury's chocolate, water...if they have it, bread," Clyde checked, then began walking, glancing back at Rani over his shoulder. "Rolos, yeah?"

"Um...yeah," Rani confirmed, blinking at him as he grinned and bounded off. Maria looked back at her.

"So...what is it with you two?" she dared to ask. "Are you together?"

"No," Rani said quickly, her insides shrivelling with crippling embarassment as she noticed that Chrissie had paused to listen, her hand clutching mascara hovering in the air. "We're just friends. Why?" she added suspiciously.

"I was just wondering, that's all."

"Did you..." Rani felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Were you two ever going out or...?"

"God no," Maria said. "I mean, Clyde's great, he's just not my type."

"What is your type?" Chrissie asked pointedly, and both girls seemed to just remember that she was there. Red spread accross Maria's cheeks until he face was the colour of a tomato.

"Oh. You know. Nice."

"Nice?"

"Nice."

"...Alan was nice," Chrissie said thoughtfully, and Maria's eyes widened in horror before she looked away quickly, clearly trying to distract herself from her mother. "But, my God, Ivan's fit as-"

"Mum!" Maria whispered, mortified. "I don't want to know."

* * *

The interior of the pokey little shop left a lot to be desired. A small, rusty metal heater feebily spluttered and forced out faint puffs of heat from its grills, warming a tiny patch of space near the till and leaving the rest of the room as cold as it was outside. There were very few shelves that were sparsley loaded with items, and an empty can lay ignored on the floor in a puddle.

When Clyde entered, the young man with multiple piercings, scruffy dark hair and sitting with his legs propped up on the desk barely glanced up from his magazine. He gave Clyde a quick look, presumably to check he wasn't some kind of thug, before looking back down at the page he had been reading.

After much searching, Clyde found what he was looking for and was about to pay when someone else entered the shop, a man in his twenties.

"It's practically busy," the man working on the till said sarcastically, making an over dramatic gesture of flipping over the page in his magazine.

"You, OK, kid?" the new customer said, frowning. "Here on your own?"

"No, my friends are outisde," Clyde said quickly. The man still looked concerned.

"What are you doing all the way out here?"

"...Shopping?" Clyde lied weakly, holding up a packet of Twiglets. It was no surprise that he didn't look convinced, and Clyde kicked his brain into gear to think of a better explanation. "Er, we got lost. Must have taken a wrong turn. And what about you?"

"Oh, just passing. Driving out to meet a few friends." He extended a hand which Clyde took, rather startled at the sudden, friendly gesture. "I'm Ross."

"Clyde. Um, I better get going," he said awkwardly, breaking off the rather firm handshake and heading to the counter. "See you."

"And you."

Clyde paid, checking carefully that he had got back the right amount of change (he didn't trust the shifty looking worker) then, his items loaded into thin, blue striped plastic bags he was making his way out when by chance he caught sight of a small logo on Ross's shirt. It was almost hidden by his jacket, but was visible when he reached up for a bag of crisps.

Acting as though he had noticed nothing, Clyde carried on walking at a calm pace towards the door, clutching the handles of the bags tight and trying to keep his panic under control. Once outside, he power-walked over to where the red car was waiting, breaking into a run as he got closer.

"It's OK, Clyde, I'm hungry but not that desperate," Rani said as he rushed to the car door and flung it open. In the blink of an eye her smile vanished. "What's happened?"

"Someone from UNIT's in the shop," Clyde said in a hurry.

"What? Why?"

"I don't know! Following us, spying, stocking up on Pot-Noodles, does it _matter_?"

"Dad!" Maria shouted over to Alan. He looked up in alarm. "Get back in the car and drive!"

"But I haven't-"

"Just do it!"

Without saying another word Alan clambered back into the car, turning the key in the ignition and pulling down his seatbelt.

"What's happening?"Chrissie panicked. "Who was in the shop? Hello? IS ANYONE GOING TO BOTHER ANSWERING ME? This is my car-" She stopped ranting with a shriek as Alan spun the car around at record speed. "YOU'LL DAMAGE THE TIRES!"

"You didn't care earlier," he replied grimly, then stamped on the accelerator, causing them to shoot forwards. The person from UNIT didn't seem to be chasing them, and they remained totally speechless as they drove down the road, Chrissie flustered and spitting out the hair that had blown into her mouth, Alan staring rigidly ahead, Maria with her head in her hands and Rani looking shell-shocked. Clyde rumaged in one of the bags and pulled out a small packet, holding it up by way of an offering.

"Twiglets?"

* * *

Miles away and hours later, Sarah-Jane was near breaking point. Night had long ago fallen, and Martha's 'friends' showed no sign of making an appearance any time soon.

"...I miss that sandwich," Jack said sadly from where he was sitting on the bed, looking down at his hands as though hoping it would re-appear.

"I miss my son."

Sensing the dooming return of the quiet, Martha sighed and switched on the tiny silver box of a television, an attractive blonde news reader coming on screen. Jack sat up straighter.

"_...and in a brighter news story,_" she said with a perfectly white-toothed smile, "_Snuffles the rabbit has returned home safely to his hutch in West Norfolk after being missing for several days after gnawing through his outdoor run. His family are delighed at his miraculous return after several devasting days of fearing the worst-" _The screen flickered and died as Sarah-Jane yanked out the plug.

"Hey I was watching those-her. That. The news!" Jack cried, but she just folded her arms.

"We're supposed to be focusing, I don't care about Snuffles the rabbit," she snapped, and Jack looked bemused.

"Snuggles the who?"

"The rabbit! On the news!"

"Oh...yeah, yeah, of course."

"I'm sorry," Martha apologised. "I thought it might be a distraction."

"Well, it certainly distracted Jack," Sarah-Jane said but, far from looking humbled, Jack looked up at her with an almost proud grin. "Look, Martha, I appreciate you trying to help but I really can't wait any longer-" Before she finished there was a rap on the door, and Martha gave Sarah-Jane a pointed look as if to say, '_there,_ _see?_' before going to open it, revealing a gaggle of three men, none of whom Sarah-Jane even vaguely recognised. One was young, barely out of his teens, and gave her a small, sad smile that she found herself-to her surprise-returning. Another of the three had wild, untamed dark hair and eyes that seemed almost completely filled by his pupils, the deep brown blending seemlessly with the black. The last was firm jawed and extremely muscly, what some women would call 'buff'; his khaki green T-shirt that hung loosly from the others clung tightly to his chest, and when he grabbed Martha's hand, Mickey noticeably narrowed his eyes.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, fixing a surprised looking Martha with a fixed gaze, continuing to look up at her as he bent to kiss her hand. "You made the right choice calling us in."

"And who are you, exactly?" Mickey demanded to be told, his nose wrinkling in disgust as he glanced down at the spot on Martha's hand where she had been kissed.

"This is Jay," Martha answered, and the man who had kissed her hand smirked at them, puffing out his chest arrogantly. Sarah-Jane was sure that she saw him flex and tighten his muscles deliberately, like a peacock spreading out its feathers to show off. "And that's Aiden," she said, gesturing at the surly, dark haired one. In acknowledement of his introuduction, he treated them to a limp, sarcastic wave. "And that's Ross." The one who had smiled, perhaps the least cocky out of the three, nodded at them all.

"We're The Resistance," Jay said majestically, and seemed to be waiting for applause. None came.

"...Resisting what?" Sarah-Jane asked what most of them were wondering.

"We're a small band of rebels who broke away from UNIT after becoming dis-enchanted," Jay explained, looking quite smug. "I'm their leader."

"By small," Mickey said skeptically, "do you mean just you three? Don't get me wrong, you could form a great boy band, but I don't think you could take down UNIT."

"There are more of us spread out accross the country," Jay said, unphased. "We three just started it all. We see UNIT for what it really is. We alone stand to defend our planet while fighting the system, our goal is to revolutionise the way aliens are dealt with. You could call us heroes-"

Jack snorted, and Jay looked over at him coldly.

"Something funny?" he asked, and Jack shook his head, clearly holding back laughter but making it deliberately aparrent.

"No no, you go on," he said, and when Jay began to speak again he added, "Superman."

"Ah," Jay said suddenly as if just remembering something, snapping his fingers and pointing at Jack. "I thought I knew your face. _Captain_ Jack Harkness, leader of Torchwood Cardiff. "

"That's right."

"...Sorry, it's hard to keep count, but how many of your team are actually left now?" At this comment, the two men felt a universal surge of hatred for the other. But for them it was a challenge, and Sarah-Jane was reminded of two stags locking horns.

"I know if you keep this up your team will be down one member," Jack said icily. Jay raised his eyebrows-_challenge accepted. _"And for a resistance, I haven't seen much evidence of resisting. UNIT's as strong as ever."

"We're biding our time. But that mystery explosion at their research facility in Glasgow?" Jay looked at Aiden with a proud smirk. "Aiden's handiwork. He's our explosives expert."

"Hang on a sec," Mickey spoke up, anxious to get a word in. "If you're against UNIT, what's with the T-shirts?" Now Sarah-Jane looked, she could see the tiny image of the UNIT logo in the top left hand corner of each shirt they were wearing.

"Irony," Jay chuckled darkly, plucking at the material. "Most of us are ex-UNIT. Kind of an in-joke. Anyway, who exactly are you?" he asked Mickey. "Who do you work for?" Mickey could be seen to be thinking frantically on his feet, and he shifted awkwardly before tossing up his head.

"I'm a freelancer. Can't tie me down. I've done a bit of work for UNIT. You know, getting info from the inside." Seeing that Jay didn't look impressed and Martha looked amused, he hastily put all his cards on the table. Sarah-Jane felt a bit sorry for him. "I've been to space and stuff! And time travel. With...you know..." He lowered his voice as though whispering a sacred secret. "_Him_."

"...Who?" Jay asked, showing no sign of recognision.

"Him. The Doctor."

"What Doctor?"

"_The_ Doctor."

"Just The Doctor?"

"Yeah. The Doctor."

"Wait, not THE Doctor?"

"Yes, I think we've all got that we're talking about THE Doctor!" Martha said impatiently. "Now, if we could just-"

"Ross has met that guy!" Jay continued, talking over Martha as if she hadn't spoken and pulling his comrade over. "Never shuts about Atmos and the ah, what was it? Some alien thingy that you said looked like a baked potato? Sounded like satsuma or something stupid like that?"

"Sontaran," Ross said, and Jay nodded wisely, slapping Ross on the back.

"Knew it was something like that. I was close."

"No, you weren't," Mickey said, looking thoroughly peeved. Jay fixed him with a burning glare.

"They both begin with 'S'."

"You know what other words have the same letters?" Jack spoke up, defending Mickey for once. "Jay and Jerk. But I'd say they're more than similar."

"Whoa!" Jay said, holding up his hands. "Cool it, Captain Cranky!"

"Incase you've all forgotten," Sarah-Jane shouted over the three men-or boys, as they seemed more like-as they started bickering and throwing insults at each other, "we're supposed to be saving my son!"

"Yes!" Jay said with passion, seeming to forget in an instant that he had been a part of the fighting. "So, a plan of action! I think we should-"

"Who says you're calling the shots?" Jack snapped, the equivilent of chucking a gallon of petrol onto the fire, and Martha and Sarah-Jane exchanged an irritated look as they all began arguing fiercely once more. This could take some time. But not if Sarah-Jane had anything to do with it. Moving like lightening, she snatched up Jack's gun from where it lay carelessly discarded on the mattress and raised it above her head, pointing it to the ceiling and cocking it.

"BE. QUIET!" she roared, and everyone immediantly froze, staring at her. Jack held up his hands and approached her.

"If you shoot that thing you'll blow a hole through the ceiling!" he warned, gesturing for her to give the gun back to him. She gave him a glare, and kept a tight hold on it. That made twice in one day that she had resorted to using a gun, something she swore she would never do. She hadn't shot or killed anyone. Yet.

Being a mother changed you when your child's life was at stake.

"You better keep quiet then," she snapped. "And to be honest, I'm not used to this. My aim isn't perfect, and I could accidently end up blowing a hole through any one of you." She found herself looking at Jay. "Enough planning. Enough arguing like children! We're going down to UNIT right now!" After this fierce shout, a tense silence hung in the air. Mickey looked quite terrified. Then, Jack grinned widely and saluted.

"Yes, ma'am!"

* * *

Luke sat perfectly still as though he was made of stone, his hands in his lap, staring straight ahead while blood ran down the side of his face and left a trail of startling crimson against the white.

"This should never have happened," he could hear Dianne telling the stern faced head of Department as she watched her from behind her desk. "Dr Morgan, let me assure you, we did everything by the book-"

"And yet, one of our main projects is a failure, because somehow the subject is dead," Dr Morgan snapped, then rubbed her forehead, looking stressed. They were in a small side room to the main lab that was acting as an office. Lily had been taken somewhere, Luke didn't know where and didn't want to. He felt numbed as he watched Dianne grovel in an attempt to keep a hold of her job.

"I'm truly sorry-"

"Look," Dr Morgan said, sounding annoyed. "I don't want to hear it. What's done is done. But how do you think this reflects on me? First Jones does a runner with stolen information, and now you've been the centre of this spectacular disaster!" Dianne looked at the floor in shame and said nothing, fidling with a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of her coat. Dr Morgan's eyes turned from her to Luke. "And what happened to him?"

"When she-the subject, died, there was some kind of explosion of energy," Dianne explained. "Everyone was thrown backwards and anything glass in the room smashed, there was nothing we could do to stop it. He must have been cut by the glass."

"And Simmons is still unconscious?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's in the medical bay."

"Right. Well, as far as I can tell, no one is really to blame," Dr Morgan decided, still looking grim faced. "Update the subject's files, the standard procedure, and call it a day."

"Thank you," Dianne said, going limp with relief. "Thank you."

Unware he had even stood up, Luke followed her from the room, and once they were out of earshot of the office she looked over at him.

"Are you OK?" she asked kindly. He didn't answer, and she sighed.

"We had no idea that could happen," she said regretfully. "Or we would never have done it."

"I don't believe you," he said bluntly, and she frowned. "I think you would have done it anyway."

"We honestly didn't know-"

"It still doesn't make it OK." Luke rubbed his eyes quickly. "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't want to help you."

"I'm sorry," Dianna said sadly. "But it's really not your choice to make. If you flat out refuse..." Her voice faded, but she didn't need to finish. His agreement with Hartman would be broken, and everyone he knew would be in danger because of him. UNIT would kill him, or worse.

In what seemed like no time at all, they were standing in a new room. It was small and plain, with a bunk bed to each wall with crisp, smartly made grey sheets.

"This is where some of us sleep when we aren't working. Most of us will be working for a while yet, it's all yours for a few hours," Dianne said. She paused, perhaps waiting for a thank you or some sign of gratitude, but Luke gave none. "I'll...have to lock the door."

"Fine," he said shortly, turning away from her and staring at the wall until he heard the door click shut and a small bleep that signified its locking. Slowly, and feeling so empty and without hope, he sat on the bed nearest him and waited for the tears to come as they did when people were sad. But they didn't.

Somehow, he'd gone further than even that.

He couldn't carry on like this, that's all he knew. The idea of staying a prisoner for the rest of his life was too much to bear.

The red light by the lock on the door flashed, and it was annoying him until suddenly it became a beacon of hope. In his old cell, the door could only be opened from the outside. This one could be opened both ways.

Leaping to his feet he ran over to the small panel to the right of the door and inspected it. If he focused and really tried, he was sure he could get the door to open without a key-card and slip through the lab. It would take a while, but once he'd figured it out he might be able to trick the other doors into letting him through more quickly. There was a slim chance he could manage to get out. Escaping the actual building itself was a different story entirely, but he had no other option. He had to try.

The system would be complex and difficult to manipulate, though. It would take a genius to manage it.

It was lucky he was one.


	22. Game Over?

**Happy Easter! I've already had too much sugar for one morning, but it gave me enough extra energy to wrap up my chapter. Doctor Who last night was actually quite good, if with an ending that was a tad rushed. Can't wait for the next episode :)**

**Thanks for all of your reviews so far-the most I've ever gotten! Soon the drama will increase, only a chapter or so to go. Hope you enjoy :)**

* * *

A small spark exploded like a tiny firework, and Luke quickly whipped his hand back from the electrics with lightening fast reflexes. The rectangular silver panel with the card slot had been removed and a hole in the wall now held a tangled nest of wires, a few objects littering the floor beneath it that had been used as a screw or to pry wires apart. But, finally, he had managed to trick the door into unlocking.

Getting up from where he had been kneeling on the floor to work, he kicked away the makeshift tools on the floor into a corner, and hesitated briefly before giving the door a gentle push. He felt it move forwards slightly, but stopped before it opened all the way, suddenly afraid. How was he going to get out without anyone seeing or catching him?

How fast could he run?

Still, no matter how scared he was on how highly stacked the odds against him were, he had to try. He might never get another chance to get out. This could be a deadly move, but the only one he could think to make. He had wondered if the others would come for him, but they mustn't and he didn't want them to. They would never make it, and it would be his fault if anything happened to them.

Time was running out, and as he stood there in that room trying to make a decision, it felt like the oxygen was being drained away to suffocate him slowly. He thought it was in his mind, until he became lightheaded and realised he himself had actually stopped breathing in his fear. Quickly drawing in a breath, he reached out, and rested his palm against the door.

Then pushed it.

* * *

Somewhere in the depths of the woods, the twisting branches and leaves softly trembling in the wind eerie in the night, an inconsiderate owl hooted loudly. It continued to do so, making an enormous effort to be as loud as possible while Clyde, Rani, Maria and her parents were trying to keep as near to silent as they could.

"It's so dark," Clyde whispered, his hands stretched out in front of him and feeling for tree trunks so as not to walk face-first into one yet again.

"It's night," Rani whispered back, her form barely visible to the others, like shadow beside them. "Of course it's dark. There's nothing we can do about that."

"Well, if you could shine more torch light over here...?!"

"I need to see where we're going, it's only a little torch! I'm trying my best, if you want to do that you do it!"

"We should have taken the car all the way."

"Stop whining, they would have seen us coming-"

"AAAAH!"

The shrill scream drowned out Rani's words, and was followed by a loud thud as something heavy fell to the forest floor beside them.

"What's happening?" Rani panicked as everyone began to talk and move frantically at once.

"What was that?"

"Who screamed?"

"Maria?"

"Anyone hear a gun or something?"

"Chrissie?"

"Shut up a second!" Rani moved her torch in a circle, then stopped at a point on the ground where Chrissie lay face down and unmoving, sprawled in the dirt.

"Oh my God, Mum!" Maria dropped to her knees beside her, looking tearful. Suddenly she screamed and jumped in shock as Chrissie reached up and grabbed her arm, spitting a leaf out of her mouth and coughing, her face smeared with wet mud.

"I tripped," she groaned, and Alan and Maria together hauled her into a sitting position. She reached back and rubbed her ankle, hissing in pain. "Ow! I think I've broken it! This is all your bloody fault, Alan!"

"How?"

"You coming back from America with Maria, you idiot! It's too dangerous! And now we're in the woods in the middle of the night with a bunch of kids and I've broken my ankle and we're all going to _die_!"

"Calm down-"

"Calm down? CALM DOWN? No, I won't 'calm down' we should call the police or something, and what are we doing? A blooming NATURE TRAIL!"

"Wait, just be quiet a minute," Clyde began in a whisper, but nobody seemed to be listening.

"I had to come back!" Maria was shouting. "You didn't have to help me!"

"Of course I did, I obviously can't trust Alan, can I?"

"She was adamant, Chrissie-"

"And if she adamantly wanted to jump off a cliff you'd push her, would you? WELL?"

"SHUT UP!" Clyde bellowed over their voices, ironically ruining his own intentions to make them all quiet "I think I heard someone!" In less than a second, everyone fell silent as the grave. Gently, Clyde took the torch from Rani and switched it off, plunging them into pitch black darkness.

"What did you do that for?" Chrissie whimpered quietly, sounding on the verge of tears.

"They would be able to see the light and find us. Just keep your mouth shut and listen."

For a minute or two, the only sound was the rustling of the leaves in the trees and the sound of their ragged, terrified breathing, broken occasionally by a barely repressed sob from Chrissie. This was until a sharp snapping sound of a twig rung out in the silence.

"No," Chrissie whispered, and clung on tightly to Alan, who was sat beside her and squinting into the dark. Standing next to them, Rani involuntarily flung out her hand and grabbed Clyde's, who tightened his hand around hers. Maria bent down and fumbled around on the ground before finding and grabbing a thick enough and tough enough piece of tree branch-if UNIT were going to attack them, she was going to make sure she got in at least one good hit.

The sound of soft footsteps got louder and louder, accompanied by the crunching of leaves and shaking of disturbed branches. A brief silence occured, before there was the distinctive noise of a gun slowly being cocked. This was too much for Chrissie.

"We surrender!" she shrieked in terror. "We surrender, we're sorry, please don't kill us!" She screamed and threw her arms around Alan, practically leaping into his lap Scooby-Doo style as a light flashed on to show her glistening tear streaked face. More torches snapped on, until both parties could clearly see each other.

"You aren't UNIT," a man with an American accent said accusingly, his gun still raised.

"Neither are you," Alan replied, raising his voice to be heard over Chrissie, who was loudly crying on his shoulder. Rani, who had squeezed her eyes shut, opened them and gasped.

"...Sarah-Jane?" she asked, spotting her mercifully familiar face amongst the group of people.

"You shouldn't creep up on people like that," Clyde breathed, then suddenly appeared to realise he was still holding Rani's hand, and quickly let go as if it had scolded him.

"You know these people?" the American man asked Sarah-Jane over his shoulder, still pointing the gun at them.

"Yes, Jack, I do," Sarah-Jane snapped furiously, looking less than pleased to see them. "What are you doing here? I told you not to come here!"

"It's us," Clyde said simply, shrugging. "Did you really expect _us_ to listen?"

"I hoped that for once you might! How..." Sarah-Jane stopped mid-sentence. "_Maria_?"

"Ooh goody, a family reunion," Jack said sarcastically, his gun dropping to his side. "As if we haven't wasted enough time already."

"Hi," Maria said awkwardly, lowering her much less impressive weapon, the stick, to the ground. Sarah-Jane looked a combination of pleased, frightened, and furious.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, then glanced down at Alan and Chrissie. She pointed at them angrily. "What are they doing here?"

"Family outing," Jack said chirpily, but was ignored.

"Same reason you are, probably," Maria answered boldly, looking in no way ashamed. "Don't think for a second we're going home. Not after we've come all this way."

"No-"

"I don't think so," Jack spoke firmly over Sarah-Jane. "We've got enough to deal with without babysitting you lot."

"But we need to come!" Maria said desperately, then pulled herself together and folded her arms. "You know what? We're going to UNIT whatever you say."

"If we joined together we'd all be better off," Alan said logically, trying hard to sound dignified with Chrissie still snivelling beside him. Jack and Sarah-Jane exchanged a glance, seeming to be considering it.

"You aren't trained," Jack said. "Give us one good reason why you'd be helpful to us." They all frowned, until Clyde seemed struck by a thought. He dumped his bag on the ground, and rumaged around in it before pulling out a packet.

"We went shopping," he said, then held up his offering proudly. "We have cookies."

"Tempting," Jack said thoughtfully and grinning, while Rani smacked Clyde's arm.

"This is serious," she hissed, but Clyde raised his eyebrows at her.

"I am serious." He rustled the packet at Jack. "They're double chocolate chip."

"That settles it then," Jack said, snatched the packet from his hands and putting on of the cookies in his mouth. Clyde's face lit up.

"Really?"

"No," Jack said, still munching on the cookie. Sarah-Jane seemed to be wrestling with herself beside him, then sighed.

"They will be safer with us," she said to him quietly, and he frowned, stopping mid-crunch. "I can't risk their lives. We can't just let them wander around at night, there are security cameras and everything. They could be caught." Jack looked to be considering it, then shook his head and sighed.

"Fine," he said, then brandished a second cookie at her accusingly. "Only for you, Sarah-Jane."

"We can come with you?" Maria asked excitedly, and Sarah-Jane nodded.

"Yes," she said reluctantly. "But you will do EXACTLY what we say at all times, have you got that?" Her serious look wavered as she gave Maria a smile. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," she said quietly. They both paused, before Maria hurried forwards and gave her a tight hug.

"Adorable," Jack said, watching them, then looked down at Chrissie and Alan. "If you don't mind me asking, why exactly are you sitting in the mud?"

"She fell," Alan answered, gesturing at Chrissie. "She thinks she broke her ankle."

"I'm Martha Jones, I'm a doctor," Martha said, going over to them and sitting down beside them. "Let me see." She shone the torch on the ankle and inspected it. "No wonder she fell, her heels are like stilts."

"She has a name," Chrissie snarled, then batted Martha's hand away. "Don't touch it, it hurts!"

"It would if you've broken it," Martha said calmly, continuing her examination. After a while, she sat back.

"Well?" Alan asked.

"The good news is, I don't think it's broken," Martha said, standing and brushing herself down. "It's just a mild sprain."

"Mild!" Chrissie snorted. "I can't walk like this!"

"We'll just have to leave you here, then," Jack said lightly. "In the middle of the woods, at night. In the dark...you'll have to stay put or we won't be able to find you again. Just cross your fingers and pray you don't get eaten by wolves."

"There are no wolves in England," Chrissie snapped, then her eyes widened and she looked at Alan uncertainly. "Are there? There aren't, are there? There are no wolves! Please tell me there aren't! Alan? Are there wolves?"

"There aren't any wolves," Alan confirmed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Jack shrugged.

"A savage fox then," he said, and if looks could kill...well, he'd be fine. But Chrissie made a pretty good go of it all the same.

"Look," Jay said, marching forwards. "We need to get going, we've wasted enough time. I'll help this young lady here." He extended a hand to Chrissie, who's cold exterior suddenly melted as she took it and allowed herself to be pulled upright. Almost immediately, she fell forwards against his chest after a fake stumble worthy of an Oscar.

"Oh, sorry," she said in a breathless voice, but was smiling at him dreamily. He gave her a sideways grin, and she giggled like a dopy school girl. Maria looked horrified, but Alan just rolled his eyes.

"I'll give you a hand," Jay said smoothly, lifting her arm over his shoulder and propping her up. "I'm Jay."

"I'm..." For a moment she seemed to forget her name, until she remembered and her serene smile widened. "Chrissie. I'm Chrissie. Hi."

"Hello," he said with a grin, and she giggled shrilly again. Jack, watching them, pulled a disgusted face.

"Seriously, have you ever seen anymore of a stupid jerk than that guy?" he asked Martha, not bothering to try and keep his voice down. Martha smirked at him.

"Actually, he reminds me a lot of you," she said, then pressed her lips together to hold back a laugh as Jack scowled. "Oh, come on! You're just jealous that he's doing all of the flirting and the leading. He's taken your role." Mickey overheard this exchange, and while Jack seethed, he looked to Martha with a frown.

"He's taken my role, too," he said defensively. "You don't think I flirt, or I'm a leader?"

"It's not that, you're more of..." Martha waved her hands as she searched for the right word. "A kind of..."

"Don't tell me," he said bitterly. "I'm the tin-dog." Martha opened her mouth to say something, looking sympathetic, but then closed it, saying nothing and everything.

"Hey, Mickey?" Jack said seriously, and they both looked over. "I've got some very important work for you to do."

"What?" Mickey asked, and Jack snapped off the branch of a small tree and hurled it a few yards away.

"Fetch." As Martha and Jack dissolved into laughter, Mickey glowered at them both before skulking off to talk to Ross, nursing his wounded pride.

"Are we ready to go now, then?" Sarah-Jane said loudly. "It's just, I don't think we have time to stand around chit-chatting, do you?"

So, ex-assistants to the Doctor Martha and Sarah-Jane, Clyde, Rani, the Jacksons, The Resistance, the remainder of Torchwood, and Mickey set off for UNIT together as an odd little team, to stand up to them as best they could. A mouse in the face of a lion. Except this mouse was armed, and was still going to give the best fight it could give.

They only hoped they hadn't been to slow. That the game wasn't already over.

* * *

Standing in front of the open door, Luke stared down the empty corridor lined with doors in front of him. At any moment, if luck wasn't on his side, someone could walk though one of those doors and single-handedly destroy his life.

Doing his best to bury his terror, he took a step forwards, then slowly began to walk down the corridor, every footstep seeming impossibly loud. His heart began to thud against his chest and he broke into a run, which quickly became a sprint. Desperate tears had reached his eyes by the time he had reached the end of the corridor, and a door with no lock that he knew led directly into the lab. Brushing the tears from his face he opened it quickly, no hesitation this time, and slipped inside.

The large room was full of people working on computers or with chemicals or taking apart objects, but not one of them even glanced up as he entered. And Luke knew how he had to play this.

Confidently, he simply walked into the room, slowly and calmly. As long as he didn't give himself away, maybe, just maybe they would assume that he was supposed to be there. They had all seen him earlier, they knew he was working for them. Would Dianne have bothered to tell them that she had locked him in the dorm? He didn't think so. And that silly, insignificant oversight might just help him escape.

It was a surreal feeling to simply stroll through a room full of people who would kill him on the spot if they knew what he was about to do, but he kept his nerve and was nearly at the door when a computer screen caught his eye. He saw every detail of that room.

He saw his name.

Turning away from the door and instead walking over the the unmanned computer he felt strangely detatched, all of his fears and worries melting away, the gap they left to be replaced with one single, icy feeling of dread. Before the computer with its dauntingly glowing screen was a vacant chair draped with a white lab coat, and Luke sat down in it as he reached it. He knew whoever had been using the computer would be back, but at that moment he didn't care. In that split-second of seeing the black printed words on the screen he had seen and read it all, and knew what he would read when he looked at it again more closely.

In the top left hand side of the page was a small photograph of him, followed by his name and the label of a combination of letters and numbers assigned to him by UNIT. It was some kind of profile, with all of the information UNIT had on him. But it had been updated following Lily's death. At the time, Luke had acted without thinking of the repercussions. He had tried to help her, tried to save her. But that's not what the words that jumped out from the screen said.

**Disobedient.**

He remembered being held back as he rushed forwards to stop them, ignoring there shouts and attempts to stop him.

**Violent.**

He remembered struggling as he was held back, kicking back at him at one point. He remembered shoving past people and being pushed back into the wall.

**Unreliable.**

He remembered telling Dianne he didn't want to work for them anymore. She must have told them. She must have told Hartman...

**To be Terminated.**

As Luke stared in horror at the words, Dianne entered the room, and he just had enough time to glance around and see the grim-faced soldiers flanking her before all hell broke loose.

"There!" One of the soldiers shouted, pointing at Luke. They moved forwards in unison, and in panic Luke leapt out of the chair. He looked over desperately at the exit, but knew he wouldn't get past the lock before they got to him. Unless...

"Please please please..." he muttered, lifting up the coat on the chair and searching the pockets. "Yes!" With the ID card gripped in his hand so tightly that the pointed corners dug into his flesh he sprinted to the door, dodging and ducking under the arms of people who tried to grab him.

"Stop him!" someone yelled as he slammed into the door and unlocked it, the time taking for it to beep in acceptance and open seeming like hours rather than seconds.

Once outside he fled down the corridor with no idea were he was going, just knowing he had to get away. Again.

"Sorry!" he called over his shoulder briefly after smacking straight into a woman carrying test tubes of rainbow colours, sending both her and the tubes crashing to the floor. Moments after he had turned to face front again a bullet whizzed past the side of his head so closely that he could almost feel it brush his hair, before something from behind him slammed into him and forced him to the ground. Shifting around Luke faced his attacker, and paused for less than a heartbeat before reacting. With as much force as he could muster, he gritted his teeth and headbutted the soldier. Having never done that before he hadn't expected it to hurt quite as much as it did, but through watering eyes and a splitting headache that had suddenly erupted in his skull he saw the stupified UNIT soldier fall back, momentarily dazed from a paralysing mixture of surprise and pain. Snatching his chance, Luke struggled upright, but found himself face to face with Dianne and half a dozen more soldiers. There was no hope now. There never really was, he knew that deep down. In that instant all of the fight and all of the fright drained out of him, and he didn't try to run or back away. He didn't cry or beg, there was no point in that. He straightened himself and pushed his shoulders back, blocking out the pounding headache and stinging cut, and stared at them squarely. It wasn't a challenge, it was an acceptance.

"Fine," he said simply to them, and they said nothing. "You've got me. You win."

"This was never a game," Dianne told him firmly, her eyes shining and full of tears while his stayed dry. Feeling no sympathy for her position, he smiled wanly.

"No, it wasn't. Because I never even had a chance."


	23. Fighting Against The Odds

**This chapter's been lying around for a while, sorry! I just re-discovered it, and after polishing it and wrapping it up I present it to you as gift, with apologies for the wait. I'm very busy with exams and things, and any future chapters may come later. I have beta work to do first before I write anything and update again, plus too much revision *cries***

**Thanks for all of your reviews :)**

* * *

"We could...dig our way under?" Clyde suggested in a whisper to the others beside him. "Anyone got a spade?"

They were standing right at the very edge of the trees, peering out at the stretch of fence, each silver bar of metal glinting mockingly at them in the light of the moon.

"Nope," Jack said grimly, and Clyde slumped his shoulders, looking annoyed.

"You led that Torchwood place! I thought you were supposed to be prepared?"

"Funnily enough, my job never required me to carry around any gardening equipment."

"We can't climb it either," Martha whispered. "It's electric. Sarah-Jane deactivated it, but each section-each side-is powered from a different source and there are alerts when it's gone down. They'll have fixed it. We can't do the same thing, look." She pointed as what looked like barely more than a shadow shifting close to the building. "More guards, they'll be watching the fence. Any other way in will be ten-times harder, after what me and Sarah-Jane did..."

"They'll be on high alert," Jack finished for her. "We're going to have to go about this in a whole other way."

"We have weapons," Jay reminded them gruffly, and pulled his own gun out of his pocket. "We could do it old-school. Shoot the guards before they shoot us and all make a run for it over the fence."

"You mean the brainless approach?" Jack asked scathingly. "The 'let's get shot in the face' approach? Oh yeah, great idea."

"Besides," Martha said while the two gave each other murderous looks, "I won't do that. I worked for UNIT, and I know some of the people there. I've chatted to the guards. They aren't killers, and they don't deserve to be killed. They're just doing their job, they don't know everything about what happens inside."

"Martha," Jack said in a warning tone. "Maybe we don't go in all guns blazing, but even then, once we're in, you have to be prepared to-"

"I know!" she snapped, whirling on Jack, her eyes full of fire. "I worked for UNIT, I know! People get caught in the crossfire. But that damn sure doesn't mean I have to accept it! Murder is the final option!"

"It's not murder-"

"Isn't it?" Martha glared at Jack, waiting for him to say something in retort, but he said nothing. She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly before nodding to herself bracingly. "Right. The fence isn't an option, and it's not like we can just stroll in through the gates, not without ID." Everyone looked dejected for a moment, but Jack suddenly seemed elated and clapped his hands together, grinning.

"That's it!" he whooped. "Martha Jones, you are a _genius_!"

"How?"

"Do you have one of those ID thingies?" Jack said asked with feverish excitement, miming holding a card then snapping his fingers as Martha nodded uncertainly. "Give it to me, quickly!"

"They have photos on, we can't use it-"

"It doesn't matter," Jack said, taking the card from her outstretched hand. Martha still looked stubbornly disbelieving.

"But they have retina recognision, if you aren't a member of UNIT staff there they'll see through it!" she pressed on.

"Martha, how long have you worked here?" he asked instead of looking disheartened. "It's important, how long?"

"I...I don't know!" she stammered, baffled by his behaviour and suddenly stumped at the eagerness of the question. "A few months, not long-" Without any notice Jack grabbed her by the hand and pulled her away from the others, further right and pulling her back into the trees so that she was hidden but could see the metal gates ahead and the two guards.

"Look at them," Jack whispered, and she did. "Do you know them? Do they know you?"

"I..." Martha studied the brown haired woman and blonde man in the uniforms. "I don't think so. No."

"Excellent," Jack breathed, then dragged her back over to the others where they stood huddled in a puzzled group.

"Um...what's going on?" Ross asked in a politely bewildered voice. Jack beamed at him.

"We're going to just walk in through the gates," he said cheerfully. They all stared at him.

"...Just to be clear," Clyde checked, frowning. "We are going to be _alive _once we get inside, right?"

"If everything goes to plan," Jack said, and held the ID Card in front of him before pushing up the arm of his coat. There was a strap holding some kind of contraption around his wrist, and he pressed a few buttons and a beam of light shot out and moved up and down the card's surface. He then held it up to Martha's face, and the beam of light blinked in her eyes before moving back down onto the card, then cut out completely with a satisfied beep.

"Cool," Clyde whistled. "It's like some kind of... super bracelet."

"It's not a bracelet," Jack said haughtily, pulling his sleeve back down to cover it. "I'll have you know it's extremely high-tech. Now, look." He held up the card, and everyone craned to peer at it. The name printed on it now convincingly read 'Penelope Barns', alongside a small photograph of Martha.

"OK," Mickey said grudgingly. "I'll admit, that's impressive." Jack grinned at him, and Martha took the card from his hand to inspect it.

"I had to change your name," he explained as she looked incredulously at it. "They might have been warned to look out for a 'Martha Jones'. As long as they don't know your face, they should buy it. The recognision software should still recognise you as authorised."

"So, that gets her in," Sarah-Jane said. "But what about the rest of us?"

"I think we should split into three groups-"

"Whoa, hang on a second," Jay interrupted loudly, holding up a hand to stop Jack, who raised his eyebrows. "Who put you in charge?"

"Well, my name is _Captain_ Jack Harkness, I have a plan, and we wouldn't even be able to get inside if not for my 'super braclet'. All you have is big ego and a regular old necklace."

"It's not a necklace, it's a dog tag."

"If we listened to your plan, you'd need it."

"Stop it!" Maria snapped at them fiercely. She looked to be on the verge of a stress induced breakdown. Dark circles ringed her tired but blazing eyes after intense sleep deprivation, and her scruffly, leaf flecked hair completed the picture of someone who was both very weary and very dangerous. "You're adults! I've flown in from America, I haven't slept, I've had Rani on my back all day, I've been screamed at by Kelsey, I've had to deal with my mother, got in a car chase and got lost in the woods! Everyone here has been through hell already, and did they do it to hear you fight? NO! They did it to try and save Luke, and if you can't handle that shut up and just...just...go away! she finished feebly. Jack, despite himself, looked slightly ashamed and coughed awkwardly as he turned away from Jay.

"Hold on," Sarah-Jane said, looking concerned as she looked from Rani to Maria. "What do you mean 'Rani's been on your back all day'?" Neither of the girls answered. "Look, I haven't got time for this, if there are any problems sort it out NOW before you have to rely on each other when we get inside! We have to work together, or I wouldn't bother asking about something so silly at a time so serious! Now-is there a problem? Or can you work through it?"

"...I suppose," Rani grumbled, folding her arms. Maria shot her a hateful look.

"If I have to," she said coolly. Sarah-Jane nodded, accepting their begrudging cooporation, while Clyde laughed nervously.

"Forget being able to cut the tension with a knife, we'd need a hacksaw." His joke did not meet a good reception, as two pairs of angry eyes instantly focused on him like lasers.

"Shut up, Clyde," Rani snarled, and his eyes widened. He held up his hands in surrender.

"Shutting up. Sheesh, women."

"Right. SO, back to my plan," Jack said, steering the conversation back around firmly. "I say we split into three groups. Martha will get the guards to open the gates. When they do, the first team will make a dash through the gates and try not to get shot. At the same time, while most guards are distracted, the second team will climb the fence on the left and try not to get shot, while the third team climb the fence on the right and-"

"Try not to get shot?" Mickey guessed, looking dubious. Jack flashed him a smile.

"Got it in one. Anyone got a problem with the plan?" Nobody looked particularly ecstatic about it, but no one complained or seemed to be able to come up with another. Jack looked at Jay wryly. "What about you, superman?"

"No problems. _Captain_."

"Fantastic," Jack beamed, then clapped his hands together. "OK! Lets see, there are..." He did a quick headcount. "...Eleven of us, including me. So if we split that-"

"Actually, there are twelve of us," Clyde pointed out. Everyone turned to look at him, and he threw his hands up in frustration. "Look, I know I'm not a genius but I can count to twelve!"

"So can I, and you're right," Jack agreed. "I should have been clearer-there are eleven of us, excluding Chrissie."

"What?" Chrissie cried angrily. "Why?"

"For a start, you have a busted ankle," he said, gesturing at how she was clinging to Alan for support while wobbling precariously on one heel. "And also...I'm not sure you could handle what we're about to do. I think you should stay here and be a look out. Is everyone fine with that?"

"Yep."

"Sounds good."

"OK."

"Great."

"I was going to suggest it anyway."

"Makes sense."

"No!" Chrissie snapped over everyone's mumbled agreements. "No, I'm going wherever Maria goes!"

"Maybe they're right," Alan told her gently, but recoiled at her venemous look. "You'll slow us down. I'll look out for Maria, I promise."

"I'm coming with you!" Chrissie said stubbornly. "I am not staying behind! I don't care who you are, Captain Whatever, but you aren't the boss of me and I'll do what I damn well want to!" She glowered around at them all, daring one of them to speak and looking like she'd rip the throat out of the first one who did.

"This," Sarah-Jane whispered to a despairing Maria pointedly, "is why I make such a big deal out of not letting certain other people find out what we do."

"Fine," Jack relented to Chrissie. "But we will not wait for you if you slip up."

"I won't," she said stiffly, and he shrugged.

"Then on your own head be it," he said. "We need to get going now, and the three teams need to be of roughly even ability. I think Clyde, Rani and Maria should be split up, one to each team. Team one will go through the gates, which will be Martha-obviously-myself, Clyde, and..." Jack scanned through them all. "What the hell. Mickey. Team two will go over the left fence, which will be Jay, Alan, Maria and Chrissie. Team three will be Ross, Aiden, Rani and Sarah-Jane, going over the right. Is that good for everyone? Not that it matters, that's what we're doing."

"Actually, I have a problem," Chrissie just couldn't help but pipe up, and Jack sighed deeply.

"Yeah, I thought you might."

"I'm not exactly happy about the whole fence climbing thing, I'd rather go through the gates," Chrissie said, eyeing the tall structure nervously.

"Not gonna happen, that's the hardest part of the whole operation. I understand about your ankle, which is why I suggest you stay here-"

"No, no, it's not that," Chrissie interrupted urgently. "It's just, these shoes were very expensive and I'm worried I might damage them going over the fence." She looked down at them sadly, and the others looked totally disbelieving, with the exception of Maria and Alan, who both once again looked ashamed to be associated with her.

"I think we have bigger priorities than designer shoes," Jack said scathingly. "You're going over the fence. You have a problem, take them off and go barefoot for all I care."

"BUT-"

"SO," Sarah-Jane said loudly over Chrissie. "After we get in...what do we do?"

"Head straight for the main building," Jack advised, suddenly serious once again. Even Chrissie, as people around her primed weapons and prepared themselves, appeared to be beginning to feel the weight of the approaching situation. "Martha is priority, she has our way in with the ID card-it's vital she gets there. If she's...if she can't get there someone else MUST get that card or it's all over. Once we're inside, I figure that any plans will be about as much use as an ice-sculpture on the surface of the sun anyway, so just stay focused and-"

"Try not to get shot?" Mickey guessed miserably, and Jack clapped him on the back proudly.

"Yep! So...let's roll."

* * *

The night was a dark one. The already painfully cold weather had plummeted dramatically, and it was with some reluctance that one of the guards at the gates to UNIT removed his hand from his pocket, explosing the skin to the icy air, and shone a torch through the bars at the approaching figure.

"My apologies, miss," he said, loud enough for her to hear from a distance as she got gradually nearer, walking at a leisurely pace. "This entire area is private property, and the grounds and building are unsafe for members of the public." Now close to the gates, Martha Jones-although the guard was unaware of her true identity-stopped. She smiled angelically into the torchlight.

"I'm not a member of the public," she said. She glanced around, then leaned in secretively and offered him the ID card through the bars of the gates. He took it and inspected it, and after the other guard gave it an approving nod he handed it back.

"That appears to be in order, Miss Barns." Martha took it with a grateful smile, and faced the small blinking camera at eye-level set into the side of the gate, just visible for those who knew where to look. The suspense swelled inside her as the silence pressed against her ears while she stared into it, waiting for entrance to be granted or denied. After a series of agonisingly tense moments, it bleeped cheerfully. Light headed with relief, she slid her card through the lock, and after that too accepted her, the guard moved forwards and willingly and ignorantly opened the gate for her. Again, she smiled at him sweetly.

"Thank you," she said, and stepped forwards to kiss him on the lips. As expected, he was momentarily stunned at the sudden gesture, then panicked as he felt his gun slide from his pocket. Martha withdrew, her arms still around him, and he looked at her in alarm. "And thank you for that." Then, in less than a second, she swung the gun around into the side of his head, and he collapsed to the floor heavily. The other guard had only just drawn her own weapon, when it was kicked from her hands, and was soon scooped up and held by Jack after he and the others had sped in through the open gates.

"Main gates have been breached!" she shouted frantically into her communicator. "Send-" She never got to finish her message, and within seconds was flat-out on the ground beside her partner.

"Martha, GO!" Jack yelled, and after barely a nod of understanding Martha was racing towards the building, the first few bullets of the other soldiers and her own backup beginning to fire through the air. It had begun.

* * *

As the soldiers swarmed towards the gates, barking panicked orders, the little pack consisting of Ross, Aiden, Rani and Sarah-Jane emerged from the trees.

"Now, quickly!" Ross whispered, and Sarah-Jane withdrew her sonic lipstick and aimed it at the power source of the fence. With a small bang, unnoticable with the now frequent gun firings, the fence went down and they hurried forwards.

"Is it definitely off?" Rani asked, and Sarah-Jane went as close to the fence as she dared and listened for the hum.

"No, it's not live," she said quickly, and wasted no time in grabbing a foothold and beggining to climb. Rani was the first to follow, clawing her way up painfully. Ross and Aiden joined them, struggling not to fall with one hand holding a gun, ready for attack.

* * *

"Jack said this will shut off the fence's power," Alan said, looking down at the small, flashing circular disc in his palm. Nervously, he stepped forwards and winced as he lightly touched it to the fence. He was half-expecting volts of electricity to be transmitted through the metal of the disc into him and leave him a smouldering, dead mess despite Jack's assurance that the material of the contraption was alien and different entirely. True to his word, Alan was-for now, at least-alive, and the disc whirred and glowed softly, before fiery fragments of red spurted from the fence.

"Great," Jay said, marching forwards fearlessly after Alan removed the little disc. He flung out a hand and grabbed the fence, and Chrissie let out a small yelp of alarm, but calmed as he didn't become popcorn on contact, and instead shook the dead metal. "It's off. Ladies first." He got down on one knee and made a small platform with his hands, and looked at Chrissie, jerking a head at the fence. "Come on. I'll help you up."

After an uncertain glance in Alan's direction, Chrisssie stepped forwards and placed the tip of her heeled shoe in Jay's hands, muffling a shriek as he immediately pushed her up.

"You OK?" Jay called to her. She was clinging to the fence for dear life, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Without opening them, she nodded silently. "We're coming up."

Without waiting, Maria ran forwards and was next to tackle the fence, leaping onto it so that it tembled, causing Chrissie's shoe to tumble back to the ground as she flailed wildly with her legs to remain on the fence.

"Stop, Maria, you're making it move!" she shrieked in terror as her daughter scrambled up and past her, a determined look on her face. "Slow down! Maria!"

"Wait for us!" Jay shouted up, but Maria didn't even pause.

"You'll never get her back down, she's too stubborn headed," Alan told him as he went to follow. "She gets it from Chrissie."

"We'd better follow her then," Jay said, withdrawing a gun and launching himself at the fence, holding on and climbing one-handed with ease.

* * *

A frenzied hammering at Monican Hartman's office door rang out, and upon the assistant opening it a faint alarm could be heard as well as distant shouts of orders.

"Ah, Lucy," Hartman said calmly, rising from her seat and walking over to the hectic looking woman. "I was just going to call you here, actually. It's my understanding that the boy has been moved to a new cell, yes?"

"What?" Lucy looked momentarily stumped, then blinked frantically. "Yes...yes, but-"

"I want to see the security cameras in the control room, then the papers I am required to sign. Of course your signature is also required and-"

"M...Ms Hartman," she stammered anxiously, interrupting despite her obvious terror at doing so. "There's a, um, situation, you see, people have broken in, it's believed to be Martha Jones and Sarah-Jane Smith as well as others..."

"Thank you, but I am well aware of the situation," Hartman responded coolly. "I, however, will be going about business as usual rather than completely losing my head. Besides, I highly doubt that they will even get within reach of this building. Jones has simply come to us rather than us going to her. If anything, she's done us a favour. As for the others...imprisoned or dead, it matters not to me. I have nothing to fear from them."

Minutes later she stood in the control room, watching the screens with footage of the cells, one in particular. The boy wasn't crying, nor was he showing any signs of rebellion against his fate. He was sat by the far wall, looking largely passive and void as he had when he was taken to the room he now resided in, and the last room he would ever know. As Hartman watched, he looked up at the camera and, without realising, directly at her. Without guilt, she looked back and held her gaze steady for a few moments, proving her strength to herself, then let her eyes wander to the screens on the other side of the room that presented her with the flickering, black and white images of outside. A few were black and damaged, no doubt by the intruders. Levelly, she watched the various seperate battles, paying particular attention to the woman she knew to be Sarah-Jane Smith as she ran for the building, aided by a young man who shot with a willing eagerness at any who approached.

"Those are children," she stated as she saw teenagers amidst the bullets and flying fists. "They must be his friends."

"You mean...they've come for him?" Lucy asked, looking back at the camera's image to Luke's cell in surprise. "All of them?"

"Mmm." Hartman looked amused more than anything else. "It's impressive, I'll give them that. But these aren't games for children or silly little men who play at being soldiers." She turned away and to Lucy. "Bring me the forms. Soon there won't be anything left to fight for."

* * *

As bullets shot past her and screams and yells rang out, Rani, instead of fleeing, found herself stopping dead with fright and indecision with no idea of where to go or what to do. Panic rose up to consume her like a tidal wave, and tears threatened to reach her eyes before she felt someone grab her hand.

"Run!" She looked over he shoulder into the terrified face of Clyde. "Move, come on!" Her lips were numbed and, unable to speak, she simply nodded and allowed herself to be pulled forwards.

Fleeing for the building, they passed Aiden, who was crouched on the ground and hunched over a few yards away. Rani stopped aburptly, staying motionless as stone as Clyde tugged at her hand.

"Are you completely mental?" he shouted at her as she stared at Aiden. "Do you WANT to get your head blown off?"

"He could be hurt," she said, pulling her hand free of Clyde's and making a choice.

"Rani!" Clyde yelled after her as she legged it towards the man. "Rani! You idiot!" Desperately, he looked from the nearby building, then to her, and followed. But when they reached Aiden, it wasn't to find him injured or in pain, but to see him fiddling with a mess of wires, concentrating fiercely.

"...Is that what I think it is?" Clyde asked flatly, seeming beyond fear at this point. Aiden looked up at the two of them seriously.

"Tell as many as you can, only approach the building from the right or keep away entirely," he said grimly. "What I do may cause casualties to our side, but it'll give us a better chance of success. GO!" He added when neither of them moved, startling them into running.

* * *

Maria would have liked nothing more than to be back on the other side of the fence. But that wasn't an option.

Jay had immediately plunged straight into the thick of the battle, leaving Alan and Maria at the fringe of the area, still watching and waiting for Chrissie to muster up jump down from the fence to join them.

"Hurry up!" Maria shouted at her, and with a deep breath Chrissie pushed herself away from the metal bars. She landed on the ground in an undignified heap, and groaned as Alan helped her stand.

"THERE!"

Maria whirled around at the cry, to face a stampede of approaching soldiers charging towards the three of them.

"SURRENDER OR WE ARE AUTHORISED TO SHOOT!"

Torn, Maria made to run forwards, then looked back around at her parents.

"Go!" Alan shouted, looking calmer than most would under such pressure, with one arm wrapped around a limping Chrissie, the other held out with his palm facing the fast approaching soldiers. "I'll deal with this." Maria nodded thickly, feeling an iron fist constrict her throat.

"I love you!" Chrissie burst out tearfully as she raced away.

When she reached a good distance and was within close reach of the desired building, she took a dangerous pause to glimpse back. Chrissie and Alan were kneeling in the mud, their hands in the air and surrounded by a ring of soldiers, both staring into the barrel of a gun but unharmed.

"Maria!" She whirled around the see a terrified Clyde running towards her, dragging Rani along by the hand. "You've got to get away from the left hand side of the building!" he shouted at her through gun shot and yelling. "We have to go to the right as far as possible!"

Maria looked back at her parents fearfully, and was about to ask why when she found out for herself.

There was a brilliant, sudden flash of bright light that pierced through her eyes and imprinted its image on the back of them, then an earthshattering boom that shook the earth violently. She felt something slam into her and she fell backwards, landing painfully on the hard-packed mud and snow.

* * *

"There's a way to speak to the cell, yes? Good, I want you to..." Hartman stopped mid-instruction, as the room gave a slight tremble, as though afraid of impending doom. Her and the anxious gazes of every other worker in the control room were directed to the ceiling, where a sprinkle of disturbed dust and plaster rained down from, landing on the desks and computers like a more sinister version of the snow outside.

"...What was that?" Lucy asked in an attempt at a calm voice that came out strangled. Every soldier in the room immediately rushed out into the corridor, drawing weapons and preparing for attack.

"Oh my God." Hartman turned, still cool and collected but now slightly apprehensive, uncomfortable and suspicious more than afraid. One of the men who spent all day sitting on his butt stuffing his face with pizza and dougnuts (the average life of someone who made a living of observing security cameras) had suddenly seen how life had just got real. White-faced and pointing at the black security screens showing outside, he stammered out as much as he could. "Cameras four, five and six are down. And the others..."

Hartman didn't need to ask, and didn't need to look more closely. The images on the camera's screens were masked by a torrent of swirling dust and fragments, the glass lense of camera three fractured into spider-web like cracks after being hit by a chunk of rock. Events had just escelated.

* * *

Maria must have blacked out for a second or two, because she found herself hazily opening her eyes, white spots hindering her vision. She began to cough uncontrollably and pushed herself into a sitting position, instinctively taking a breath but sucking in and choking on the dust that filled the air. Every breath choked her, and her eyes were streaming as she called out into the too quiet silence.

"Clyde?" she called raspily, pausing to cough again and muffling it quickly after a worrying lack of reply. "Clyde?"

"I'm not sure," a familiar voice croaked to the side of her along with the sound of disturbed rubble, "but I _think_ a bomb just went off."

Her eyesight was gradually improving as the dust cloud around them thinned, and she could see Clyde sitting up, his clothes coated with a grey dust and pieces of rock falling from him and clattering to the ground. Maria instantly hugged him tightly, realising she was shaking.

"I tried to tell you," he said, his voice barely audible through his coughing. "I pushed you down." She remembered the heavy thing that had slammed into her, and while she had smacked her head painfully hitting the ground, she really preferred that to having it blown off.

"Thanks," she said, then remembered who had been with them. "Wait, where's-"

"Rani?" Clyde shouted, realising before she could finish, his dust-clogged voice straining to be so loud. "Rani? RANI?"

"Stop, UNIT will hear us!" Maria begged, instead looking around the area around them for some sign of her in the smokey air.

"I don't care, RANI!"

"Here." Clyde visibly unwound and relaxed at the quietly broken voice. What had looked like a mound of dust and rock close to them shifted, and was revealed to be Rani as she sat up to face them. Her entire body was caked with the stuff, only her dark brown eyes coloured against the grey through her dust speckled eyelashes. Her hair was matted with it, making her appear to have aged about fifty years.

Apart from a few minor cuts, scrapes and bruises, the three of them were unharmed, most likely saved by the quick thinking of Clyde, who had both shoved Maria to down and pulled Rani with him.

"Where did UNIT get a bomb?" Maria asked, patting at the layer of dust on her so it flew into the air.

"It wasn't UNIT, it was Aiden," Clyde said darkly, flapping away the dust that Maria had patted free.

"Aiden? _Why_?"

"I don't know, he had a bomb. I didn't exactly stick around to ask him."

As the air became clearer and the dust settled, it revealed an expanse of barely recognisable waste-land. Piles of rubble, big and small, surrounded them, grey and brown flecked masses on the similarly coloured ground.

"...Woah," Clyde said simply. When Maria moved in preparation to stand, her foot nudged something. Her curiosity sparked despite herself, she reached out get it. After brushing it down, she saw the remains of one of the security cameras.

"I still don't understand why Aiden would do this," Rani said nervously. "What did he mean it would help us? Maybe he wasn't really on our side?"

"Er," Clyde said, staring away from them towards the building. "I think I just found out."

"What? How?"

"Well, call me unobservant, but I'm pretty sure that before the wasn't a massive hole in the side of the building, was there?"

Through the haze of smoke and grey clouds, a gaping hole could be seen as a result of the bomb blasting through one side of the building. Orange flames were flickering inside, occasionally leaping out of the gap to lick at the debris around the outside, threatening to spread.

"Now we can get in!" Clyde whooped. "Aiden wasn't a maniac after all!"

"Wait!" Rani hissed, grabbing his shirt and tugging him back down as he went to get up.

"What? Let's go!"

"Firstly, we need to go quietly," Rani said slowly, as though Clyde was so incredibly dim he struggled to understand words. "UNIT are still out there. Secondly...There's a car parking area in there."

"...So...?" Clyde didn't seem to understand and waved his hands in a gesture for her to explain.

"Petrol. Lots and lots of petrol, plus lots and lots of fire, tends not to add up to a happy ending, Clyde."

"Oh."

"But we have to go!" Maria said firmly. "Otherwise this is pointless!"

"I know that," Rani snapped, looking stung. "I'm just saying we have to be careful and stay away from that area. If we see any petrol anyway or the fire's too close, we get out."

The three began to hear groans around them as more people recovered from the explosion, and they gave each other looks. It was now or never. Rani and Clyde stood up, and Maria hesitated, scanning the area for signs of her parents. She thought she caught a glimse of a woman that looked to be coated in flour who might have been Chrissie, but was soon overcome with another fit of coughing that demanded her attention. Clyde pulled her up and away, and she saw the anxiety on his own face. They had been unharmed, but there was no guarantee that the others were OK.

They legged it as fast as they could towards the opening in the building's wall, not stopping to look for people or investigate any signs of movement.

When they reached the way in, the flames had either grown or appeared more deadly close up, the heat radiating outwards and threateningly caressing their skin. Maria dared to move forwards first, and looked inside, trying her best to ignore the fire. It was at a safe distance-for now.

"Can you see anything?" Clyde asked, hopping from one foot to the other and glancing around him. Rani was similarly on edge, and kept her back to the opening, instead watching for approaching soldiers.

"There's a lot of smoke," Maria said. "And there are no lights, it's dark. I don't think there's much more fire inside." The way in was like an abyss, pitch black with faint, charcoal coloured smoke drifting accross, occasional snapshots of interior visible in flickers of flame-light.

"What about Martha?" Rani asked. "We need her. She was heading here." Suddenly the air seemed so much colder, the warmth vanishing as they all had the same thought.

"...I don't know," Maria said quietly. "I can't see her. She must be further inside."

"Yeah."

"Well...let's go then." They headed inside, and even passing through the hole was nerve-wracking; Maria couldn't shake the feeling that it would suddenly collapse down on her. While the flames provided no cause for alarm just yet, the smoke caused was thick and deadly, and they covered their faces with their arms, bent over as they hurried along, hoping to reach clearer air. Dust, plaster and sandy brick rained down on them steadily, and at one point Maria threw an arm out to stop them as something above them crumbled and a torrent of debris fell to the ground inches away from where they were standing.

Eventually, the air became easier to breath as the smoke was in lesser supply, and a few faint, barely working lights showed them most of the enormous room they now stood in. At this point Rani stopped and hunched over, shuddering with coughs and drawing in rapid breaths in an attempt to take in much needed oxygen. Clyde tried to smother his own and patted her on the back, taking wheezing breaths, his eyes watering.

"Hello?" Maria called out into the room, her voice thick from the coat she was holding in front of the lower half of her face. "Is anyone here?" She was starting to despair when she spotted a shadow shifting accross the room, and someone crawled out from behind a hiding place of a heap of wooden crates.

"Yes," the person said, holding up a hand. "I'm over here!"

"Martha?"

"Yeah." Martha stood up and ran over. "I only just got down in time. Was that a bomb?"

Clyde seemed to try to make a joke, but choked on his own words and simply nodded miserably instead.

"It was Aiden," Rani explained, recovering slightly and speaking with a less scratchy voice. "He said he wanted to help. I don't know what happened to him."

"Well, I suppose he wanted to get us an easier way inside," Martha guessed, spotting the flame circled gap ahead. "He succeeded. At least it wasn't too powerful a bomb."

Clyde tried to laugh sadistically, but it came out as more of a pathetic wheeze.

"You OK, Clyde?" Rani asked him, and he gave her a thumbs up while he slumped down onto a crate.

"Still, even though the place is still standing now it could collapse at any second," Martha said. As if on cue the building creaked worryingly and another shower of plaster pattered to the floor. "Do you want to wait here for any others, go in without them or get out now?"

"Wait," Maria and Rani decided at exactly the same moment. Again, Clyde gave a thumbs up, making noises like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.

"OK, we'll wait. But any trouble and we'll have to get out," Martha said, looking stressed. The bubble of tension that had surrounded them burst as someone bounded in to join them, looking unfazed by the building's state.

"Oh my God, Jack!" Martha cried in alarm.

"It's OK, I'm here now. Guess what? I survived! I'm so lucky." Jack grinned at his own little joke, unaware of the horror stricken looks directed at him.

"Jack-"

"Is this it? I suppose we'll wait a bit, then-"

"You're on fire!"

"I know, there's no need to tell me."

"No, you're actually on fire! As in burning!"

As Martha frantically slapped Jack with her jacket, trying to extinguish the flames while he leapt around in panic, Clyde snorted.

"Talk about cliched," he said. "It's like living in a bad disaster-slash-comedy movie."

"Stop, drop and roll!" Rani shouted as advice, Jack's demented prancing doing no good while Martha smacked him with a coat. He dropped to the floor and started rolling, hitting at the flames as he did so.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow!" he yowled, and Clyde delved into his bag, rumaged through numerous items and produced a water bottle. He unscrewed the cap, ran forwards and tipped it over Jack.

"Thanks," Jack gurgled sarcastically as water splashed into his mouth. Clyde shrugged.

"You're welcome."

As the panic subsided, they became aware that Jay, Ross, Mickey and Sarah-Jane now stood in the room, watching them. Jay looked amused, and Jack quickly jumped up to his feet, soaking wet and slightly singed but intact. The same couldn't be said for his pride.

"Thank God," Mickey said in relief, going to hug Martha then stopping as he thought better of it. "You're alive!"

"Really? I hadn't noticed," she replied, and he looked embarssed. Meanwhile, Sarah-Jane was hugging Maria and Rani, then gave Clyde a pat on the shoulder.

"Aiden warned us," Jay explained in a low voice. "Haven't seen him since."

"Guess that means..." Jack pretended to think, counting with his fingers mockingly. "Two members of your team left. Oh, sorry," he said, catching Jay's glare. "Is it insensitive to bring that up?"

"Where are Alan and Chrissie?" Sarah-Jane asked Maria, ignoring their spiteful fighting.

"I don't know."

"Well, we can't wait any longer," Jack said regretfully while Sarah-Jane gave Maria a look of sympathy. "This place is full of cars with big gas tanks, it could blow sky high at any second or come crashing down on us. Martha, where's the way in?"

"There are the lifts, but they might be dangerous," she told him, the concern on her face strengthening as the ceiling groaned above them and there was a cascade of brick fragments, more than before. "We have to get out of here-back outside or down. Now."

"Right, then," Sarah-Jane said with a stern, no-nonsense tone, ignoring the now constant showers of rubble and marching over to the doors set into the wall. She jabbed a finger against one of the buttons, but there was no reaction. She hit it again and again, but there was still no result.

"That lift's down," Jack said, then ran over to another, his charred coat swishing behind him. A red, tiny light on the panel beside it alongside with glowing buttons informed them that it was working. "We could use this one."

"I can't get the door open to staircase two," Martha said as she tugged on the door that refused to onlock. "The locking sytem isn't working." She moved accross the room to another door ('S1') and used her card to open it. "There's only one staircase we can use. If we don't use a lift, we can't split up."

"I'll go in it," Jay volunteered immediately. "And Mickey, Jack and Ross. I want the kids and you girls to be safe."

"And I want _you_ not to be sexist," Sarah-Jane snapped at him. She had been more than a little bit tense and had been unusually snappish yet withdrawn. "How on EARTH would being a man help you if a lift suddenly plummeted?"

"I just meant that-"

"I know exactly what you meant! And I think you should..."

Sarah-Jane launched into a furious rant, and Maria didn't know if it was because Luke wasn't around that she used language very differently to get her point accross. By the time she had finished, red faced, even Clyde looked surprised.

"Well." Jack paused briefly to barely supress his laughter. "I'll take the stairs with sexist pig over here. Decide between you want you want to do, preferably before we're buried under the remains of this building."

* * *

Beneath the earth, the tension was mounting, made no better by the alarm lights throwing out vivid red light into the dimmed darkness. Soldiers were primed and alert, with access to the surface forbidden. The Labs had sealed themselves, the unprepared scientists squabbling like panicked birds over the few emergency weapons they possessed. In the control room, one of the computer screens flashed in warning.

"The entrances have been opened above," Lucy breathed, her eyes wide and her forhead glistening with beads of sweat as large as the pearls on her necklace. "And one of the lifts is moving down."

"We can cut it off-" Hartman grabbed the frenzied technician's hand as he reached for a button on the computer's keyboard.

"No," she said, smirking, ignoring their horrified, incredulous stares. "Let them come. I had a schedule that they've completely destroyed, and they're being quite a nuisance. They don't get away with it that easily. Clearly they want a fight, and we won't be denying them."


	24. The Countdown To The End

**Sorry that it's been a long time since I've posted, I've been busy. Updates should hopefully be coming more quickly now, though.**

**In this chapter a toilet plays a part again...honestly, it's become the main hero. **

**Anyway, thanks for all of your reviews, sorry about the evil cliffhanger at the end!**

* * *

Alarms were screaming all through the corridors, and blood red warning lights flashed in the grimly prepared faces of the soldiers as they ran to their posts, many of them wishing they had earplugs as the piercing alarm wail threatened to burst their eardrums.

A fleet of the soldiers rounded a sharp corner and promptly split into two rows, the first row kneeling on the floor with guns raised, the other line backing them from behind. Like statues they stayed absolutely still and in perfect position. Waiting. Waiting for the intruders, the cause of the alarm. The dangerous, armed people that struck such terror into all, the cause of the above explosion...

Despite all of their training, most couldn't prevent an astounded look of confusion from crossing their face as Captain Jack Harkness strolled into sight from around a corner, looking decidedly nonchalant. As there was the flurry of movement and cocking of guns, he gave them a smile, as if having just spotted some old friends at the park or a supermarket rather than walking straight into half an army with orders to kill him.

"Hey," he said cheerfully. "Love the berets, by the way. I guess the coast isn't clear." He groaned, looking irritated more than anything else. "This is gonna hurt." Without any forwarning he whipped a gun from his pocket and yelled over his shoulder. "We've got company, lets go for it! Go, go, go!"

"FIRE!" One of the red-faced soldiers boomed, only for every single soldier to look stunned as Jack hurtled straight into them, ignoring the first few spats of gun-fire. Quickly, a frenzy broke out, with guns going off left, right and centre, Jack yelling tauntingly somewhere in the middle of the throng of soldiers, looking like he was having to time of his life.

Around the corner that Jack came around and pressed against the wall, Maria glanced worryingly at Sarah-Jane.

"He'll get himself killed!" she said, looking distraught. But the woman usually so concerned with protecting human lives seemed oddly uncaring.

"He'll be fine," she said simply.

"But-"

"Maria," she interrupted sharply. "Trust me. He'll be fine."

"This is recreational to him," Martha said calmly. " Now, let's go!"

The plan had been for them to split up into different directions, keeping low while Jack provided a distraction. Each person had, as Jack had said, a 'buddy' that they had to keep with at all times. It was like being on a school trip, except with a lot more guns.

Pumped full of terror and adrenaline they ran out and promptly seperated into a series of smaller groups. Maria and Sarah-Jane sprinted off to the right, bent low to avoid bullets, Sarah-Jane's arm protectively wrapped around the younger girl. Martha and Mickey showed signs of wanting to help Jack, who was lost in the frenzy, but Martha's professionalism took over and she resisted the urge, tugging Mickey to the corridor heading left.

"The cells are on another floor down," Sarah-Jane gasped when she and Maria had put enough distance between themselves and the opposition-but they could still hear their distant shouts and thudding footsteps, coming ever closer.

"How will we know which one Luke's in?" Maria asked, bending over double and wincing at the sharp stitch in her side.

"We won't." Maria looked up, admiring the woman more than ever. Anyone else might have sounded defeated by now, hopeless or desperate. Some would be a snivelling, wimpering mess. But she sounded only more determined.

* * *

"OK," Jay said in a serious whisper to to Ross, Rani and Clyde, who were crouched with their backs to the wall beside him. They were sitting at the bottom of the staircase from which they had descended from. In the end, Jay had decided that he hadn't wanted to be with Jack or Sarah-Jane, who both seemed like they wanted nothing more than to hit him. "On my count, we run out. Stick close to me at all times, and if I go down run and don't look back. Find the others if you can."

"Got it," Clyde said with a salute. Rani rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

"Head straight ahead once we run out. There's a door at the end of this corridor, it should head into the Labs, if I'm correct, which I usually am. Ready?" Jay nodded at them seriously and held up three fingers. "On three. Three, two, one-" With lightening speed Jay leapt up and kicked open the door that would lead into the corridor, his gun raised. With a loud bellow not unlike Tarzan's he hurtled out into the corridor...

...and stopped dead, staring with surprise and a little embarrassment at the empty, unthreatening space stretching before them.

"Oh," he said stupidly, letting his gun hang lax at his side.

"Well." Clyde walked leisurely past him towards the door at the end, taking out the key card they had taken from Martha (Jack had stolen another during the carnage above ground so both groups had one). "That was easier than I thought."

As soon as the words left his mouth, everybody cringed inwardly. Sure enough, as he flung open the door, he revealed a fleet of stern faced soldiers. Jay swore softly, and Clyde went momentarily still with shock and fear.

"Sorry, no kids allowed," the soldier standing in front of Clyde said with a sneer. At the word 'kids' Clyde's terror swiftly vanished, annoyance taking its place.

"Oh, well, you know," he said lightly, moving to shove past him, "kids nowadays."

"Yeah, little terrors," the soldier snapped, blocking Clyde's path and giving him a hard shove to the chest that sent him flying backwards onto the floor. As he started to sit, he found a gun hovering in front of his face, forcing him to stay down.

"Don't!" Rani cried out, but the soldier ignored her and waved to more of the soldiers behind him to enter the corridor and surround them.

"You," the soldier said sharply to Jay and Ross. "Drop your weapons or we'll shoot."

"Not if we shoot you first," Jay growled, as Ross looked uncertainly down at his gun. The soldier smiled at him nastily.

"You're outnumbered. Even if you did get one of us we'd take down the rest of your little toddler group of fighters," he said. Jay looked fuming, but grudgingly lowered his gun to the ground, Ross following suit, while Clyde seemed to be debating whether or not he could get in a good kick to the sadistic man standing over him. The other soldiers snapped handcuffs onto Jay immediately, then Ross, and was in the process of restraining Rani when Clyde spoke up.

"So what now?" he asked the leading soldier.

"If you keep quiet and follow orders, we'll hold you captive for no more than twenty-four hours, question you, then give you a standard memory wipe. Not only do you have the right to remain silent, but you are obligated to or we'll go ahead and shoot."

"Oh good, I thought it would be something awful."

* * *

Ten minutes later, they were sat in a small cell inside a larger room, each firmly handcuffed to one of the chairs bolted to the wall. Through the metal bars they could see only a little wooden desk with a classic interrogation lamp, two chairs facing each other accross the desk and an ominous door on the wall opposite the one they came through that held a dark sort of mystery.

"This is all your fault, Clyde," Rani decided furiously, tugging at her handcuffs desperately. Clyde looked at her, indignant.

"How did you work that one out?"

"You should have checked the way through was clear before you opened the door!"

"It was made of solid steel! I don't have X-ray vision, I can't see through _steel_!"

"Look, we aren't going to get anywhere by fighting," Ross said reasonably as Rani muttered something unintelligible under her breath and Clyde kicked the ground angrily. "At least we're inside."

"Oh yes, hooray!" Clyde snapped sarcastically, joining Rani in trying unsuccessfully to free him himself. After another five minutes filled only with the pathetic sounds of jangling metal restraints that refused to release them, a woman in a sharp blazer and pencil skirt entered, striding over to them confidently in her heels. Beside her, an unfamiliar, khaki uniform-clad man followed, his scruffy, rough demeanor clashing with her sophisticated appearance that was somehow even more menacing.

"This isn't all of them," she said shortly after her eyes swept the cage. "There were more than this."

"Yes, they attacked in seperate groups-we only caught one," the soldier beside her said regretfully. She nodded, her eyes glinting as she surveyed them all.

"Clever. But we'll get them."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Very pleased to meet you," she addressed them smoothly. "I am Monica Hartman."

"And _I_ am really angry and want you to let my innocent friend go," Rani shot back with a fiery glare. "But you don't care about that and I don't care what your name is. We're suffering enough without you and your condescending tone."

"Yeah, basically, what she said," Clyde said, jerking his head at Rani. Hartman raised her eyebrows at Rani.

"The girl is feisty," she noted drily. Rani's eyes narrowed.

"You're just lucky I don't have my hands free."

"Aren't I just?" Hartman said with a patronizing chuckle that made Rani bristle, then turned to the soldier. "Draton, question them. If they are useful...I may be persuaded to save their memories. If they refuse to cooperate, you know what to do." She started to walk away, then turned around and called back to him. "Oh, and start with the girl."

She left, and Draton approached their cage.

* * *

In an empty corridor, the dead body of Jack Harkness was slumped against a wall, his shirt stained with blood that no longer had a wound. In the silence, his sudden, rasping gasp as he sucked in oxygen rang out. He shuddered violently and jerked forwards, breathing deeply as his heart thudded again. His eyes were wide as he searched the area, and he fell back again as he realised he was alone.

"They shot me," he remembered, still panting, then looked down at his red, blood soaked clothes and groaned. "I really liked that shirt." He stumbled upright, and staggered away from the spot where he had died. He twisted and clicked his neck twice, then began to run, pulling a small pistol from his coat pocket.

Nobody kills Jack Harkness and gets away with it.

* * *

Rani fought the urge to blink at the blinding spotlight directed at her face, refusing to show any sign of weakness. Through light-blurred vision, she could see the dark figure of the soldier, Draton, accross the table from her.

"I'll ask you again," he said, his collected tone wavering after fifteen minutes of stubborn silence from Rani. "Who else is you with?"

She said nothing.

"What is your name?"

She said nothing.

"Who set off the bomb outside?"

She said nothing.

"Look, I'm giving you your best chance, you stupid girl," the soldier said, losing his temper and slamming a meaty fist onto the table. "If you don't talk-"

"If I don't talk it won't be any worse than if I did," Rani said, folding her arms and speaking for the first time. "Do you really think we'd believe that if we betray our friends you'll just let us go?" Draton looked like he'd just been slapped in the face, and he spoke again through gritted teeth.

"This is your last chance-"

"Stuff your chances." The blinding light disappeared as the lamp was snapped off, and dark spots were still clouding Rani's vision as she was hauled out of her seat by the arm.

"I warned you," Draton said grimly, dragging her accross the room, his tight grip more than a match for her struggles.

"Get off me!"

"Oi!" Clyde shouted from the behind the bars of the cell on the other side of the room. "Get off her!" He frantically tried to free himself. "Where are you taking her?" he yelled as they reached a door. "Let her go! LET HER GO!"

"You're next!" Draton shouted, opening the door. Clyde craned his neck, but wasn't at a good enough angle to see inside.

"Rani! RANI!" Clyde was nearly in tears as she was shoved into the room, the door closing behind both her and Draton. "No!" He threw his head back against the wall, then let out a scream of annoyance. "FOR GOD'S SAKE!"

"Steady on, mate," Jay began, but Clyde interrupted loudly.

"No! They've got her, and they've got Luke! Except he's probably already DEAD-"

"Don't say that-"

"Come on, we're all thinking it! And if he is and Rani is, I want to be to!"

"They said they'd wipe her memory-"

"How much of it?" Clyde asked in a shout. "If they take it all she might as well be dead! PLEASE!" He yelled again in the direction where Rani and Dalton had left, his voice cracking with strain. "LET HER GO!"

"They can't hear you," Ross said miserably, but Clyde kept shouting, kept hoping. Because that's all any of them had.

He'd shout until his voice died out.

* * *

"Down there is where I worked," Martha said in surprisingly calm voice, sounding like a tour-guide as she pointed down a corridor, "so over to the right should lead to the lifts that would take us directly to the observation stations. Through there, we can get to the cells and look for Sarah-Jane's son. First, we need to get our hands on another one of those key cards." As she gave him a look with a raised eyebrow that asked his advice, Mickey stammered a little before looking around as if hoping one would magically appear before them.

"We should...steal one, I guess," he said stupidly. Martha sighed, then froze as she was hit by an idea.

"Unless..." That was all she said before she hurried off down towards the labs she worked in, evidently assuming Mickey would obediently trot after her. Which he did.

"Unless...?"

"The toilet," she said simply, as if that explained everything. She stopped, inexplicably beaming, outside a door with the small, familiar image of woman on it that was a symbol for the ladies toilets. Mickey looked awkward, and spoke in a very quiet, embarrassed voice.

"Can't you just...you know, wait?" he asked. Martha looked confused, then understanding and a mild look of embarrassment appeared on her own face.

"Oh, no, it's not that. Follow me," she said, pushing open the door and walking inside. Mickey hovered outside for a few moments until her shout from within made him jump. "You aren't going to be arrested, you know!"

Once Mickey had plucked up the courage to go inside, he found Martha standing in front of a cubicle that sported a clear 'out of order' sign. Undeterred and strangely intent on using this one particular toilet, she pulled a bronze penny from the depths of her pocket and used it to turn to lock. The door swung open, and Mickey peered inside apprehensively when she ran in, dropped to her knees and reached behind the toilet. After a bit of rumaging she pulled out a long, white lab coat triumphantly.

"I hid it here," she explained to a bemused looking Mickey. "I went undercover and had to get rid of my coat or it would have given me away. I stashed it in an out of order toilet because nobody would find it, and..." She pulled out a plastic card from one of the pockets. "Guess what I've got?"

"Brilliant!" Mickey exclaimed, unable to restrain himself from rushing forwards and engulfing her in a hug.

* * *

"Face it. We're lost."

"We're not lost," Sarah-Jane snapped at Maria. They stopped at the end of the corridor, staring down each of the two optional paths.

"We are."

"We're not!"

"OK, which way do we go?" Maria challenged. Sarah-Jane looked to the left. She looked to the right.

"Left," she decided, and boldly set off down her chosen path.

"Why?" Maria asked as she followed, with no better ideas of her own.

"When in doubt, follow your instincts," Sarah-Jane instructed her wisely, without turning around. "You've got nothing to lose."

Before Maria could say anything else, they rounded a corner, and she only caught a glimse of a horribly recognisable uniform before she was pulled back roughly to safety. Flat against the wall, Sarah-Jane pressed a finger to her lips, motioning for Maria to stay quiet, then peered around the corner. Maria knew that she was supposed to stay hidden, but as usual threw both caution and obedience to the wind and copied Sarah-Jane.

The soldier was shutting a heavy door behind him with one hand, the other clutching a small, scruffy looking bag and plastic wallet that would be used by police to hold evidence. Inside she could see two small guns and a collection of assorted mobile phones. Maria frowned and gently tugged Sarah-Jane back.

"That's Clyde's bag," she whispered as quietly as she could. Alarm crossed Sarah-Jane's already terror-worn face.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Maria said with worry. "Also...I think that those phones belonged to them, too. They must have been caught." To check, the two of them looked into the corridor again, but this time the soldier shifted and began to glance in their direction. They whipped back, but it was too late. He'd seen them, and they could hear his footsteps approaching.

"Should we run?" Maria asked, eyes shining with panic. Sarah-Jane shook her head.

"We'd never make it," she said in a hurried whisper, clearly trying desperately to think of a plan. The footsteps got closer, and Maria suddenly stepped right out into his path.

"Maria!" Sarah-Jane hissed, grabbing for her but missing. She didn't follow her, but remained hidden, listening closely, knowing she must have some kind of plan.

"Hello," she could hear Maria telling the soldier brightly. "I'm looking for my mum."

"What?" The soldier sounded extremely confused.

"My mum. She works here."

"Then she should know kids aren't allowed." The soldier's voice was steely rather than puzzled now, and Sarah-Jane tensed, ready to leap out at the first sign of trouble.

"Those phones you've got," Maria said, still sounding cheerful, "they're well cool. I've got one like that one. That one just there...no, the one beside it..."

In the moment it took for the soldier to be distracted there was a painful sounding crunch and a yelp of pain. Sarah-Jane rushed out to see the soldier on the floor, holding his right leg tightly and gnashing his teeth with pain. Maria had retrieved the plastic bag he had dropped and, seeing him reach for his own weapon, she wrapped the plastic of the bag tightly around the gun inside and gripped it, then hit him over to head with its barrel, wincing as she did so. His eyes became unfocused, and his grip on his injured leg was released as he flopped backwards onto the floor.

"How did..." Sarah-Jane was speechless as she looked from the unconscious soldier to Maria. "How could..."

"I know people in America," Maria said, shrugging and picking up the rucksack from the floor, "and you don't see the things I have without picking up a few things." Sarah-Jane looked sadly at the once innocent Maria, then pulled herself together and took the plastic wallet from her to search.

"Definitely Clyde's," she said with fresh fear as she inspected one of the phones. She picked out another. "This one's Rani's. And..." She pulled out an ID for 'Penelope Barns'. "Martha's."

They looked at each other. Now there were more people to save.

* * *

Rani heard an awful, low moan in the blackness, and worried for the person causing it. Then, when it came again, she realised it belonged to her. Her mind was spinning and she could see nothing but black, but she felt an ache near her right temple and a stinging pain in her arm.

She didn't know where she was...home? No...UNIT...danger...trapped...She had been knocked out, but she had seen the room...

Groggily, she came to, the first few bursts of unidentified fear breaking through. Her eyes flickered open, and she found herself staring up at fluorescent lights that made her shut her eyes again as they burned. After a few moments she opened them as they adjusted and her mind began to clear. This, worryingly, brought even more panic.

Her chest felt oddly tight, and when she tried to raise her body into a sitting positon she found she couldn't. Trying to stay calm, she was able to move her head just enough to look down at herself. A thick restraint was strapped accross her body, keeping her pinned down to a table. More straps held down her arms and legs, and her heart pounded on her rips like a fist that wanting to break through the restraints.

_Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic..._

Swallowing, Rani turned her head to the side and looked down at the arm that felt sore. First, she saw a machine directly beside her head with one small screen with data flashing, and another, larger one that was blank. Second, she saw the IV line that ran into her arm, connected to bag of fluid hanging above her.

"No," Rani said in a small voice to nobody inparticular-there didn't seem to be anyone in the silent room with her. Then she began to tremble, and started shifting, trying to wriggle free. Then she went into a full, hysterical panic, trying to release herself by pulling sharply upwards. "No!" she shouted. "Let me out! HELP! HELP! Clyde, someone! Anyone, HELP!"

The monitor beside her began to bleep, registering her distress, and a tiny red light blinked by the blank screen. Rani kept up her efforts, screaming herself hoarse, until the screen lit up and was filled by the face of the woman who had met them earlier. Her curious nature winning over, she reduced her struggles, facing the screen with a mix of intrigue and fury.

"_Hello_," the image of Hartman told her smoothly, "_this is an automatic, informative video that has been activated upon your return to concsciousness. You have breached UNIT security, and you have either been uncooperative or have given information. Any information given to us is much appreciated. Now it has been logged your knowledge of such information is no longer neccessary, and regardless of your participation we will proceed with a memory wipe-_"

"I knew it, you lying cow," Rani said with boiling blood, talking over some of the woman's drabble about the process being painless.

"..._UNIT respects your right to know what is happening, hence this message_," Hartman continued in the same calm tone. _"UNIT have developed a drug that has the power to effectively erase memories. You will be subjected to this drug in a different potency depending on your personal experience. The effect on memory can range from erasing twenty-four hours to a lifetime. Drug Type A will erase twenty four hours, Drug Type B will erase a week, Drug Type C a month, Drug Type D a year and Drug Type E a lifetime, only to be submitted to one with over a year's experience of classified information or duties or one with an unspecified period of classified knowledge awareness. Anyone submitted to Drug Type D or E will later go through a rehabilitation process courtesy of UNIT. The label of your Drug Type may be found on your IV bag..."_

"Please, please..." Rani begged to herself quietly as she turned her head up to look at the bag swinging above her. Her heart stopped as she saw the letters stamped accross it, all too clear to see.

**'Drug type E'**.

"..._Thank you for listening to this message and we apologise for any distress or inconvenience_..."

"No, you can't!" Rani screamed at the screen, her stomach churning at the recording of a serenely smiling Hartman. She had a family and a life, she couldn't lose that. Her mum, dad, friends... "No!"

"_This memory wiping process ensures both UNIT's privacy and your happiness, free from any burden of_ _knowledge_." Through tears, Rani turned her attention back to the screen. "_After this video terminates a countdown from two minutes wil commence. After two minutes, the drug will be released into your system. We advise that you keep yourself calm to reduce any distress or panic. Thank you."_

The video vanished, to be replaced by the numbers of a digital clock:

**2:00**

As she watched, then numbers changed with a beep.

**1:59**

Then-

**1:58**...

"Oh God," Rani sobbed, her tears running from the corner of her eye down the side of her face now her head was no longer upright. "Please no...Please! HELP, PLEASE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! CLYDE! CLYDE!"

**1:51**

"STOP IT!" she screamed pointlessly at the decreasing numbers of the clock out of pure desperation. "STOP! Stop! Stop..." Her voice weakened into cries as she accepted that it was hopeless. She wept with unstiffled sobs as she clock continued to count down.

She was alone. She wouldn't remember her parents or her friends. Not Sarah-Jane, not Luke...not even Clyde. And after UNIT's 'rehabilitation' process she doubted she would ever know them again. With Drug Type E UNIT hadn't just taken her memories. They had taken all that made her how she was. Perhaps they would even take her name afterwards, and she would let them. Would she remember anything at all? Would she even forget how to speak? UNIT would probably say she would be born again. But she cried because she knew the truth.

This was going to kill her.


	25. Losing Or Already Lost?

**Thanks so much for the reviews, it's the most I've ever gotten and I really appreciate it :)**

* * *

Maria stepped over the limp form of the soldier on the ground, and went over to the door he had come through, key card at the ready.

"Wait!" Sarah-Jane grabbed her arm as she moved to swipe the card through the lock. "The others might not necessarily be in there, he might have been carrying those things before entering this room. Anything could be inside."

"It's our best chance to-"

"I know. I'm just saying be on guard, that's all." The two smiled at each other, then-as the man on the ground groaned softly-opened the door.

It slowly swung inwards automatically, and immediately angry shouts spilled out into the corridor.

"YOU CAN COME BACK AND YELL AT ME ALL YOU WANT BUT I'M NOT SAYING ANYTHING UNTIL YOU BRING HER BACK YOU BLOODY THICK-HEADED, IDIOTIC MORON! COME AND HAVE A GO, I SWEAR I'LL PUNCH YOU SO HARD THAT YOU'LL FORGET YOUR OWN NAME!"

"Clyde?" Maria asked in shock as she recognized the furious voice, but he kept shouting, clearly under the impression that they were someone else.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? QUESTIONING HER AND DRAGGING HER OFF! YOU THINK YOU'RE SOOOO BIG AND SMART, LIKE SOME KIND OF...OF EVIL, FAT SHERLOCK! I'M NOT TALKING UNTIL YOU BRING RANI BACK!"

With that rather bad attempt at an insult they walked further into the dingy room, the door closing behind them, until they were in front of the metal-barred cell and in Clyde's line of vision.

"It's us!" Maria said loudly, and his rage faded but didn't vanish when he saw them.

"I thought you were that soldier," he said, his voice flat and unapologetic. "He said he was coming back."

"Yes, I think he's unconscious," Sarah-Jane said quickly."But what do you mean he took Rani? Took her where?"

"Through there!" Clyde gestured with a jerk of his head to a metal door, unable to move his chained hands.

"Maria, let them out of there," Sarah-Jane instructed frantically, chucking her the sonic, which she fumbled to catch with shaking hands. Sarah-Jane then grabbed the key card. "I'll get Rani."

"Hurry up!" Clyde yelled after her desperately.

"I'm going as fast as I can, Clyde!"

They all watched as she reached the door, unlocked it and dashed inside and out of sight. In a few more seconds Maria had successfully released Jay, Ross and Clyde from their handcuffs, and the four of them immediately sprinted after her.

"Rani?" They stared in horror at the sight of her strapped down, tears spilling down her face. They had time to register the countdown clock and the IV before she turned noticed them.

"Get me out," she asked, looking afraid then, as hope mingled with terror, her fire returned and she shouted in a shaky voice, "Get me out!"

"What is that?" Maria asked, looking at the IV bag labelled '**Drug Type E**'.

"It'll take all of my memories, please just take it out!" Rani screamed at them, uncharacteristically terrified. "I've only got seconds until it starts!" They turned to the numbers on the screen.

**00:09**

**00:08**

**00:07**...

While Sarah-Jane and the others focused on releasing Rani from the restraints, Ross ran over to where the IV line entered her arm and fumbled with it slightly.

**00:06**

**00:05**...

"I've never taken one out, I don't want to hurt you!" he said in panic. "Isn't there some special way to do it or something?"

**00:04**...

"Just get out of the way!" Clyde snapped, shoving him back roughly. The clock by this time had hit zero, and the clear fluid had started to creep through the thin plastic tube as Clyde simply ripped it out and chucked it aside. With the straps now released and dangling above the floor, he grabbed both her arms and pulled her upright. The second she had stood up, she threw her arms around him.

"I thought I was a gonner," she breathed in relief, sniffing and wiping away her tears. As the panic ebbed away, she slowly began to realise that she was tightly clinging to Clyde. Judging by the look on his face, he was realising that he was doing the same to her.

"Um..."

"Er..."

"Sorry." Rani let go and stepped backwards awkwardly. Clyde lowered his eyes. "Thanks."

"Nah, it was nothing."

"Really, thanks."

"It's cool."

The only sound for a few moments was the steady dripping of liquid from the IV leaking onto the tiled floor.

"So, we've solved the mystery of what happened to Kelsey once and for all," Maria said to break the tension.

"She was dropped on her head at birth?" Clyde asked, unable to resist.

"I meant about her memory," Maria said, but still gave him a small smile. "UNIT must have given her this somehow," she said thoughfully, unhooking the bag from its stand and inspecting it curiously."It explains her having no idea what me and Rani were on about when we went to her house."

"There was a video," Rani contributed, seeming more like her old self. She pointed to another screen beside the one that now read '**00:00**'. "On that screen. This woman-Hartman, her last name was-was in this video that told me about the drug. There were all these different kinds, I'm guessing Kelsey was given the one that would have taken a week if she told them everything. Mine would have taken my whole life."

"Kelsey remembered me, so it can't have been her whole life," Maria said, but looked puzzled. "But if she did tell them about Luke, they would have known she knew about him before that. Why would they only take a week?"

"I don't know."

Sarah-Jane had used the sonic to get the video back up on the screen, and as the smiling but cruel eyed woman gave her speech they gathered to watch grimly.

"So she's runs this place," Sarah-Jane said quietly. "Monica Hartman, like Mr Smith said. She's the one responsible for taking Luke." The cold, hard hatred on Sarah-Jane's face was so intense that Maria, who was closest to her, took a few steps back.

"And you'll be seeing her very soon."

They all whipped around to see the soldier they had knocked out standing in the doorway, a purple, mottled bruise beginning on his forehead. He had a slight limp as he came further inside, but more soldiers followed in his wake, quickly surrounding them.

* * *

"Slow down," Mickey called as Martha hurried along ahead of him through the dank corridor after going down a short flight of stairs. A few feeble lightbulbs lit the way, and water dripped steadily from parts of the ceiling. "Urgh, it's disgusting down here."

"It's an undergound base, not the Ritz," Martha said shortly as they reached another of the identical steel doors they had come through. "What were you expecting?"

"I dunno, hygeinic conditions?" Mickey said in a slightly hysterical voice. "Upstairs there's little plants and stuff, down here it's...gross!"

"We're quite deep underground now, and it's bound to be a bit damp. This area's right next to the..."

"The...?"

"Sewage pipes."

"Oh my God, I wondered what that smell was!"

Martha sighed and unlocked the door, allowing them to step inside. Not only was the room cleaner than the tunnel leading to it, but it was enormous. The floor was polished and tiled, and the room was large and circular, as was the pool set into the floor in the center of the room. There was a ring of bars around it, and it was filled with water that still had ripples in, as though something had recently dove under the surface. Beside the pool was a desk, a swivel chair and a huge machine with an abundance of buttons and screens with a range of information streaking across in lines.

"There's no cell really," Martha told a slightly gobsmacked Mickey (even though he was trying to appear cool), "so there's no seperate observation room."

"Hmm. Yeah. And I suppose this way it would better for...um...observing and...stuff." Mickey's attempt to sound smart failed miserably and once again he cursed himself. He used to be Mickey Smith the tough guy, the guy who dated the prettiest girl on the estate, the guy with the 'cute smile' as Claire Brunstone who worked at the chip shop used to say.

Then a stupid alien turned up with his stupid box and his stupid jacket, and all these stupid plastic things had tried to kill people and his stupid girlfriend had run off with the stupid alien. And now, despite the threat of death, Mickey was more worried about trying (and failing) to get a date with the woman who had had her heart broken by the very same stupid alien.

He was feeling very sorry for himself indeed.

* * *

Inside the control room, a frantic series of bleeps were emitted from a monitor along with a red light.

"Oh, what is it now?" Hartman snapped, at her wits end. "Do you know what? I don't care, just get someone to shoot whatever it is that's causing the trouble."

"All areas but those they are assigned to have been prohibited to staff, but someone's just entered one of the observation rooms," the man watching the machine said, reading the information that the computer screen was flashing at his face in red light. "Number six. Nearest the labs, the observation room and cell combination. Hang on, I'll get them close up up on camera." He tapped a few buttons and the blurry image of a security camera appeared on the screen. After a few more taps, the picture zoomed in and sharpened on the faces of the two people standing beside the containment pool. With a shrill, excited alarm, the computer produced a flashing square around the face of the female.

"_Facial match_," the computer said. "_Martha Jones_."

"Stevens. Who's closest to there?" Hartman asked the stiff-lipped soldier standing rigidly beside her.

"That would be Lawrence and his men."

"Tell them to go in and welcome back Dr. Jones," Hartman said, and he nodded curtly, pulled out a communicator and turned away as he barked instructions into it. "If Lucy isn't here in the next minute, she's fired."

Just then Lucy returned, a file cluctched in her hand, looking and sounding like a terrified little mouse among the lights, shouts and confusion.

"I've got the papers!" she squeaked at them, hurrying in and letting the file drop onto the desk. She flicked through it in a fluster before identifying the correct pages. "Yes...here it is."

"Congratulations, you can successfully fetch and carry just within the space of half and hour," Hartman told her dryly and her cheeks burned. "You now have all of the skills valued in the average labrador."

"You need to, um, sign here," Lucy said in a wobbly voice, pointing to spaces on the pages, "here, and here. That's...that is...that is if you're sure-"

"Why wouldn't I be sure?" Hartman asked coldly, and Lucy took a moment to find her power of speech again, but forced herself to say what any decent person would.

"Because he's just a kid. And it's terrible."

"It's justice." At her final sounding words, Lucy fell silent. Hartman bent over the papers and signed on the dotted line of each with a flourish. For all who payed attention to what she had signed off, the temperature in the room seemed to drop slightly.

"That woman," Hartman said quietly to the silent people around her, "and her little gang can keep fighting their pointless battle. But they've just lost the war."

No one showed any sign of pleasure at that. Lucy was unable to contain the few tears that silently slipped down her cheeks, and quickly abandoned the room. Hartman shook her head at her retreating back.

"First," she said, "I want to open the communication with the cell." The soldier, Stevens, looked at her, a hint of disapproval breaking through his indifferent mask.

"With respect," he said slowly, and she gave him an innocent look, "the only reason for communication with a prisoner through the comms unit is in order to construct a bargain or gain information from one who would be deemed too dangerous for contact, or to give instructions to a member of staff who was inside. Not to...gloat."

"I have no intention of gloating," Hartman smoothly told him. "I think he has a right to know where he stands. And he showed such concern for his friends that I'm sure he would want to be updated on the situation."

* * *

Hope is the one thing that keeps anyone going. If someone has a bad day or suffers a tragedy, the only thing that keeps them going is the hope that things will change. If someone is ill, they hope they'll recover and fight with that hope guiding them. If someone loses the man or woman they love, they keep going, hoping to find that love again.

Luke had no hope. Oddly, once the last shred of hope had died, he found he was left with a feeling of peace. But it wasn't the peace that people spoke of occuring after the demise of a war, it wasn't happy. It was more like the sort of peace people were said to have when they died. There was no hope to fuel anger or fight or strength. There was just nothing.

He knew he was in a new cell, but it was almost exactly the same, except for a tiny scratch in the corner barely a millimeter long that hadn't been there in the other. He hated that he noticed that.

Exhausted mentally and physically, he ignored the slight crackle he heard over his head as he sat against one of the walls. The ceiling had grated vents in, he knew, and one thing that looked like a speaker. He guessed that it had been activated, but didn't see the point in looking up at it or bothering to listen.

"This is Monica Hartman," the slightly tinny and amplified voice that was emitted said. "As you know, your defiance has forced us to abandon any other options other than termination. In addition to this, it may interest you to know that our previous contract has been broken."

Luke's head whipped up to look at the speaker in horror, but said nothing, waiting instead for her to elaborate.

"As you have breached the contract, your friends are no longer protected," she continued, her smile clear in her voice even though he couldn't witness it. "They have broken into this base, having caused quite a bit of destruction and most likely many casualties in doing so. Evidently they were quite keen to try and rescue you." There was a static filled pause. "If you speak, I can hear you, you know."

Her silence was open for him to plead, so he could satisfy her. But if there was one thing he could do as one last act of defiance towards her, one last act of scorn, it was to say and give her nothing. So he kept his mouth shut, and turned his back of the camera watching him so that he was staring directly at the tiny scratch on the surface of the wall.

"How disappointing," Hartman said after a few more moments of waiting. "I had hoped to hear a few last words, but never mind. Maybe your friends will be more rewarding in that area." The speaker cut off with another crackle, and Luke closed his eyes against the tears that burnt behind them. His hope had returned, but not for himself. Even if it was over for him, he would pray until the last that they survived.

* * *

As the soldiers pounced on them, Rani judged it carefully and dodged the first to leap at her, tugging Clyde with her through the open door to the interrogation room. As one of them followed, Clyde picked up the chair from the ground and held it out in front of him while Rani ran to the door.

"I can't open it!" she cried. There was a loud bang that made her jump as the door behind them was hit by Maria's foot as she kicked at the soldier holding her, who had slung her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Oi!" Clyde yelled, and promptly jabbed at him with the legs of the chair, striking his eye. His grip slipped, and Maria fell down onto the floor with a thump, not having time to do more than wince before standing and calling accross the room.

"Rani!" she shouted, and threw something through the air that landed at her feet. The key card. Clyde was smacking every soldier in sight with the chair, before one grabbed one of the legs and hit it against the wall. It cracked and splintered, and Clyde looked like he was going to keep fighting anyway before Maria grabbed him and pulled him, running to Rani's side as the door opened mercifully.

"What about the others?" Rani asked desperately, looking back, concerned for them even as the soldiers nearest pulled out guns with bullets meant for them.

"You know Sarah-Jane would want us to run," Clyde told her, and she was tearful as she nodded regretfully. He seized the chance and pushed her through the door with Maria and just made it out himself as a bullet pinged at the part of the door by his head.

They hurtled down the corridor, neither knowing or caring if they were being persued, until they reached a door.

'L3," Maria read, slightly out of breath. "It's a lift!" They went through the door quickly, beginning to hear people heading towards them, and ran gratefully to the silver doors at the end of the corridor they were presented with. They crammed inside the tiny space and looked at the buttons for the floor, and pressed the one for the lowest level, knowing it would take them to where the prisoners resided. As they slowly descended, they took in sharp breaths, leaning against the walls.

"You know," Clyde said in between gasping for air, filling the silence, "I never got why they call it a lift." Maria and Rani turned their heads to look at him in confusion and disbelief.

"Well, in America it's called an elevator," Maria offered. Clyde shook his head.

"But still. 'Elevator'," he said, miming an object going upwards with his hands. "It goes down as well." He mimed something going down. "So, lift and elevator don't really make sense-"

"What would you call it then?" Rani interruped impatiently. He shrugged.

"Dunno. The...up and down box."

After that pointless conversation that was probably intended to dilute some of the fear, they lapsed back into a nervous silence, waiting for the lift to come to a halt and wondering what they would find when it did.

* * *

Jack had, though he didn't want to admit it, been hopelessly lost before he ran into an out-of-breath Jay. They each took in the other's appearance with raised eyebrows; Jack's clothes were stiff with his own drying blood, and Jay had a nasty, darkening bruise growing on his cheek along with the first hints of a black eye.

"Where are the others?" Jack asked Jay accusingly, peering behind him in the hope of seeing them. Jay stubbornly refused to look guilty, but made a point of wiping blood from his split lip to bide himself time before answering.

"We got into a bit of trouble," he explained to Jack, who clearly had fury bubbling inside him, ready to blow. "We were caught almost as soon as we got in, and then Sarah-Jane and that other girl came to save us. But before we could get out soldiers turned up, there were so many of them it was impossible to see what was going on-"

"You ran off and saved yourself," Jack guessed, looking disgusted. "You just left them all there."

"There was no way I could get them all out!" he defended himself firmly. "I think the kids all got out OK, but Ross and Sarah-Jane-"

"Got left behind by you, a pompous, snivelling little worm," Jack finished for him angrily, and Jay scowled.

"I did my best! We held some of the soldiers back so the kids could escape, I only just managed to slip out!" he snapped. "I just think it's more important to actually succeed in what we're trying to do rather than to act heroic!"

"Makes a change."

"I won't stand for that!"

"Fine!" Jack spat, turning away and stomping off down the corridor, leaving a now slightly bashful Jay behind. "As far as I'm concerned, you're no longer a part of my team! Do what the hell you want!"

Watching Jack storm off out of sight, Jay called him every name under the sun, before going his own way. Jack was so absorbed with himself, Jay thought, that he didn't give a single thought to how anyone else was feeling. Aiden had died, and Jay had just had to make the awful decision of leaving behind people who trusted him. Of course he felt guilty, but he dealt with it like an adult, unlike a certain someone who, despite looking like they came from World War Two, behaved like a sulky child.

* * *

Martha was already making the trek across the room to the door, but Mickey found himself standing stock-still, staring at the now placid surface of the pool.

"What's in there?" he brought himself to ask, his voice just carrying across to where Martha stood. She turned to him, her own eyes flickering over to the barely rippling water.

"I can't really say for sure," she said with hesitation, but Micky's silence invited her to go on. "It was washed up on a beach. It needs water to survive, but it doesn't have gills or anything. It's not a fish, it's more...human."

"Like a mermaid?" Mickey asked doubtfully, but she shook her head, approaching the pool's edge and putting her hands on the rails.

"No."

"Can it speak?" he pressed on, intrigued, going over to Martha's side and looking at the water's surface himself. He thought he saw a dark shape moving below, like a shadow.

"Not exactly," Martha said. "We think it uses sonar, like a wale. We can't hear it, but sometimes-" She stopped suddenly, catching herself.

"Sometimes what?"

"Nothing. I'm probably imagining it anyway," she said, clearly keen to move on from the subject.

"No, come on," Mickey prompted her. "What?"

"Its kind of telepathic," she said slowly, then caught herself, shaking her head. "No, that's the wrong word. I can't actually hear words or anything, but I feel its emotions."

"What, whenever you're near it?" Mickey was in awe.

"Most of the time." Martha pointedly stopped speaking, but after a while Mickey quietly asked what she knew he would.

"Can you feel it now?"

"Can't you? It's the same as it always is," Martha said in a voice barely more than a whisper. She let go of the rail and directly faced Mickey. "It feels like it's crying."

Before Mickey could try and tune in to what Martha was experiencing, they became aware of a low beeping, and barely had time to react before both doors in the room opened, soldiers flooding in in droves. Martha grabbed Mickey's hand and pulled him back so they were pressed against the rail.

"I work here," she said frantically as they advanced. She held up her card and gestured to the lab coat she was now wearing. "See? I'm authorised to be in here."

"Oh, we know who you are," one of the soldiers said. "You're Martha Jones, and you certainly aren't allowed to be in here." Without warning he lunged forwards and grabbed her arms, pinning them behind her back so she screamed in pain and anger.

"Hey!" Mickey shouted bravely, rushing to her aid. Before he knew what was going on, a hand was on his chest and, with a quick, firm shove, he tumbled backwards over the railing and into the water with a splash.

"Mickey!" Martha shrieked, and while the soldier holding her fiddled with and prepared handcuffs, she kicked back sharply and pulled away from him. Reaching the rails she searched the water, waiting for him to surface. After a split second of seeing no sign she shrugged off her coat, threw it into the faces of those behind her and flung herself into the depths of the pool.

There was a second of falling through the air before she sliced into the water like an arrow, plunging downwards. Her mouth opened in a shout of shock at the ice cold water, and she closed it quickly as bubbles of air streamed out. Water shot up her nose and her eyes burned. With panic she was aware of more heavy bodies jumping into the water close by her, and she struck out for the surface, wishing she'd taken in more air before she jumped, her lungs ready to burst.

Her head broke through the water's surface, and she hastily inhaled oxygen, spluttering as she breathed in excess water.

"Mickey!" she shouted, peeling her hair away from where it was plastered over her face and searching for him around her. "MICKEY!" When she saw him surface a short distance from her, she was so relieved she almost forgot to tread water and sunk a down few centimeters.

Then something brushed her legs.

She swum backwards frantically, only for hands to wrap themselves around her tightly. Fighting in the water was harder than on land, and there was little she could do as she felt a hand on her head that pushed her down and under the water.

Kicking and floundering under the water she could faintly here shouting above, and she was feeling lightheaded before she was tugged upwards painfully by her hair. Her eyes were stinging and she gasped desperately , water splashing into her face as her captor held her. With blurry vision she could see Mickey and tried to cry out to him for help, but water sloshed into her mouth and nose before she could make a sound. She was already choking before she was pushed under again.

This time it was longer, and she knew she was going to drown. After struggling, her lungs stopped screaming in a tantrum for oxygen it couldn't have. Everything seemed oddly still. Now she stopped fighting, it was peaceful with the water cradling her. Her limbs floated limply, and tendrils of her hair drifted around her face. All sounds were muffled and dull, and her sight clouded to such an extent that she could barely to see the pale, weirdly shaped form that swam past her. Past caring, she hardly noticed as the creatures shot upwards, a webbed foot almost striking her face. The hold on her lessened then disappeared, but she couldn't force her sluggish muscles to move. Instead, she began to sink. Slowly, the light from the world above her grew darker as she sunk deeper. She no longer noticed the freezing temperature, and she was losing consciousness as she sunk down, down, down...

Was that an angel that seized her, ready to haul her up to whatever it was that waited for her? A bright light was rapidly approaching, and she welcomed it gratefully, wishing she had the strength to reach out for it...

Suddenly the tranquility vanished with the reflex action of sucking in the air that was offered to her upon being dragged back to the surface. The harsh air filled her lungs, and she half coughed, half vomited up water. After a while the world sharped again; the cold stabbed at her skin like knives, her eyes watered with pain and she could hear the terrified voice of the person holding and shaking her.

"Martha? Martha!"

She twisted around with difficulty, and Mickey's frightened face swam dimly into focus. It was his arms that held her, gently but tightly. She managed a smile, closing her eyes.

"You must be...so...disappointed," she said in gasps, and she heard the worried confusion in his response, possibly thinking she was brain damanged.

"What?"

"You didn't get to... give me the kiss of life." She opened her eyes, and laughed throatily at his face. After a few attempts at swimming herself, she raised herself into a less vulnerable position, still using Mickey for support. There were screams around them, and she watched a soldier splashing towards the wall of the pool in desperation to escape, only for a white, oversized webbed hand to suddenly shoot out from the depths. It wrapped its slimly hand around the man's ankle, and hauled him down, screaming, below the surface.

"It's the alien thing," Mickey told her breathlessly, half pleased, half afraid. "It's helping us." Martha remembered the odd thing that moved past her shortly before she was released.

The creature surfaced once again. It had no hair, and its face was elongated and a pale white tinted with green. Its skin glinted with droplets of water, with a texture like that of scales. With effortless grace it smoothly swam towards them, and began circling them like a shark, only protectively. It was careful not to touch them, and only struck out at any soldier who came near.

Clinging to each other, Martha and Mickey were momentarily stunned, until there was a loud bang and water sprayed up from the water close to the creature. Looking up, they saw soldiers leaning over the rails (some of them very miserable and soggy), aiming their guns at the water.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

They fired again and again, bullets missing to slice into the depths of the pool. Spooked, the creature dove beneath the surface, leaving Martha and Mickey bobbing helplessly. The firing ceased, and strong hands soon seized them and tugged them apart as the soldiers that had previously been kept at bay reached them.

Before long, they were being marched from the room, sopping wet and weighed down by waterlogged clothes. This time, both Mickey and Martha could sense the creature and its emotions. They could feel its guilt at failing to save them.

* * *

"Jones and her companion have been apprehended, ma'am."

A smile grew on Monica Hartman's face, which was glowing with triumph.

"What of the others?" she queried, and the young soldier looked pleased to be able to give his boss the news.

"Miss Smith is being taken to your office as you requested, and another man is being confined as we speak," he said. "We are in pursuit of an ex-UNIT officer that was recognised by the system having been caught on the security cameras, the man recognised as Torchwood's Jack Harkness is dead, and we're fairly certain of the whereabouts of the younger perpetrators-one of the lifts has been activated."

"Excellent." Beaming, Hartman felt the tension she had been carrying lift from her shoulders. UNIT had stamped out the intruders like insects. Yes, they may have left a few unsightly marks, but nothing that couldn't be put right. The boy was as good as dead. As far as she was concerned, it was over.

They'd won.

She felt a pleasure swell inside her that was strong enough to warm her cold, hardened heart as she imagined breaking the news to Sarah-Jane Smith, the woman who thought herself so above UNIT. Before she wiped her mind...no, before she killed her (the time for mercy had passed) she would tell her of her plans for the future. People had been beginning to accept the concept of aliens on Earth, and that could not be allowed. She, Monica Hartman, was going to make sure that any filthy creature that stepped foot on Earth's soil would not walk free. Furthermore, she would take the human race into a new age and make them stronger through the knowledge they took from the aliens, be it forcibly or through trickery. She expected criticism, but did people not use rats and other animals to learn about medicines, to save lives? Did they not still, despite their useful aspects, largely consider them vermin?

She would take Earth back and protect it from hungry, watchful eyes. The human race would become feared. The human race would become powerful. The human race would, when the time was right, become fully aware of the dangers, and those who had stories to tell of the evil of alien creatures could finally speak out without being ridiculed, Hartman among them. She would lead them into glory, and the planet would be free of unwanted life that invaded it. When the initial panic and carnage is over, calm will descend. The Earth will be clean, with any blood stains washed away until it would be like they were never there.

Pure.


End file.
